


Sweet Dee's Day Off

by NoOnlineOnlineOnline



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: But can they?, Dark Comedy, Drug Use, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Panic Attack, Past Sexual Assault, Post-Season/Series 14, Suicide Attempt, They try to patch things up, Typical canon awfulness, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, covid-19 pandemic plays a role in later chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24310801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoOnlineOnlineOnline/pseuds/NoOnlineOnlineOnline
Summary: Dee botches her suicide attempt and is in desperate need of help.  Luckily, Charlie shows up in the nick of time.
Relationships: Charlie Kelly & Frank Reynolds, Charlie Kelly/Dee Reynolds, Mac McDonald/Dennis Reynolds (background)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 62





	1. Chapter 1

Part of the Charlie Work means looking after drunk punchy whores. At least, that’s what Mac and Dennis told him when he objected to this task. It wouldn’t be the first time that he dragged her drunk ass out of the apartment and into the bar to work. It certainly wouldn’t be the last. But this is the first time that he really didn’t want to do it. 

He had no intention of setting foot in Dee’s apartment ever again, and definitely not by himself. But Mac and Dennis can’t be bothered to partake in these menial tasks; that’s what Charlie is for. They have “other business” to take care of. Always the go-to excuse.

You can count on Charlie to be the only one to do any actual work in the bar. Even if it means physically leaving the bar to make sure one of its employees makes it to work. He doesn’t get the luxury of working on “other business” like Mac and Dennis do. You certainly wouldn’t catch him taking days off like Dee tries to do.

They need him. He wonders if any of them realize that.

Charlie walks up to the door to Dee’s apartment and knocks. Mind you, he doesn’t wait for a response before grabbing at the doorknob. This is just part of the protocol. Barging into Dee’s apartment is a pastime of the Gang. By actually knocking, it was his way of letting her know “your buddy is here” before he barges in.

It’s been a long time since he knocked on her door.

Is that why the door isn’t opening? Maybe he’s just a little rusty. This is how it works, right? Knock on the door, yank the door open. If his nerves weren’t eating away at him they definitely are now. Dee never locks the door.

He starts to debate on whether or not he should try again. The locked door is a convenient excuse to leave this awful place. He could just as easily tell Mac and Dennis “I don’t know where the bitch is, she locked the door. Probably out shopping or something.” He can then huff some glue to forget about it, go back to setting rat traps and only see her apartment in his nightmares.

But just as he started to turn away from the door, he thought he heard a muffled shout from behind it. Weird. If she was in the living room, he would clearly hear her through the door. Must have been a ghoul or something. She’s not going to get any sleep if there’s a ghoul floating around in there. Even if she isn’t there, the least he could do is make sure it leaves her alone when she comes back.

He knocks again and grabs the doorknob. The door still won’t open. This time, he hears several muffled shouts immediately after the knock. He’s not imagining it this time, there’s definitely a ghoul in here!

Charlie grabs his keyring out of his pocket. He keeps three keys on him at all times- one for Paddy’s, one for his apartment and one for the Waitress’s apartment. He knows better than to try his apartment key on Dee’s door. Dennis told him before that his apartment key doesn’t work on any other door. He decides it would be best to try the Waitress’s key.

He tries to put the Waitress’s key into the hole but it’s not working. He’s not too surprised by this- it didn’t work on the Waitress’s door yesterday either. Perhaps keys have an expiration date? That would explain why he keeps needing to have new ones made. Charlie tries ramming the key in, scrapping away at the teeth inside the lock, doing whatever it takes to get the door open but it’s no use. All it did was make the ghoul inside angrier.

Charlie took the key off the ring and chucked it down the hallway. Clearly it’s defective. No matter, this sometimes happens with the Waitress’s door. That’s why he always keeps a hairpin handy. An expert in his element, Charlie effortless unlocks the door with the hairpin and opens it.

He sees the interior of Dee’s apartment and feels his stomach turn a bit. Charlie didn’t want to step inside. There was always the possibility that she could be coming back from wherever she was right now. If he got too far in she could close the door behind her, throw him against the wall, and grope him. There’s nothing he could do to stop it. An unlikely scenario, sure…but…it’s possible.

Instead he peaks inside and shouts “Dee? Dee are you in here? Mac and Dennis sent me to find you. I picked the lock on your door…

“Charlie?” came an excited voice from somewhere. “Oh, thank God…”

“Hold on a second” Charlie said, feeling his confidence rise a little bit. He steps inside to investigate. “I’m pretty sure there’s a ghoul in here.”

“No, there’s no ghoul. It’s just me.”

“You’re the ghoul?”

“I’m not a ghoul, Charlie! I’m in the bathroom!”

“Oh, ok.”

That made much more sense. Charlie started to feel the tension dip from his shoulders a bit. Dee’s just taking a shit. He can just wait for her on the couch…ok maybe not there. He’ll just stand and wait at the entrance of the apartment. And when she comes out he can quickly shoo her out of here and back to Paddy’s.

“Come in here.”

Charlie frowned. That was quite the unusual request. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. “Uh…should I just wait for you to pinch it off or…”

“I’m not taking a shit, Charlie! I’m…I’m seriously injured!”

The panic in her voice was unmistakable. What if she really was hurt? Was this why she couldn’t come to work? Could this have something to do with the locked door? All of the nerves in his body felt frozen and frayed. It’s really more of a Dennis move to spring this kind of trap. But then again, he thought he knew Dee…

He could feel the fear racing through his body. Either outcome was really bad.

“Please…help me.”

This was what convinced him. The quiet desperation in her voice was what made it obvious that she really was in trouble. That she need help. That she needed him. 

Charlie pushed forward, perhaps ignoring his better judgement. He got to the bathroom door and paused. This was it, his last chance to turn back now. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow as his hand quivered inches from the doorknob. He had no idea what he was about to see if he opened that door…or if he would regret opening the door at all.

All he knew was the thought of his buddy in pain was too much to bear. It was almost worth making himself vulnerable again.

He slowly opened the door.

Peeking inside he saw something that made his jaw drop. Something that would tie his gut in knots. Something that he would see in his nightmares forever.

Dee was sitting on the bathroom floor looking up at him. She looked terribly woozy, and was awkwardly smiling at him. Behind her, the wall was splattered in blood. The blood pooled behind her and around where she sat. She didn’t seem to really notice it, but her hand was still gripping the revolver. It looked like one of Frank’s.

“Hey, buddy” she said quietly. Still smiling softly, still swaying in place.

Charlie felt his pulse spike. “Jesus Christ, Dee! What happened to you?”

She softly jerked her head as if she was gesturing at something. “I missed my spinal cord.”

He stared at her incredulously with his mouth wide open, and then looked around at the pool of blood. “Do you need me to help you find it?”

Her demeanor changed at an instant. She looked frustrated that Charlie didn’t get the point.

“No, dumbass! I shot myself! I must have flinched, because it didn’t work!”

And then it hit Charlie like a ton of bricks. This is why she locked the door. This is why she never called the Gang. It’s not the first time she’s tried something like this before. She’s casually talked about this kind of thing, almost as if it was some sort of dark joke. But this...this is different. This is serious. She really wanted to go. To leave everything behind. To leave him.

Yet here she sits, with years of rage and frustration and hurt etched on her face, but with a steely determination deep in her eyes. Something that very few people noticed about her, but something that Charlie sees every time he looks into her eyes. This wasn’t an issue of aim.

This was the fighter in her. It was the flinch that caused her to miss. It was the will to stay alive as blood was pouring out of her head and she slipped in and out of consciousness. It’s what kept her going for hours of agony, unable to move, with no hope whatsoever of any one coming to find her. She probably thought no one ever would. Yet she kept fighting.

Dee’s a goddamn fighter. He’s always liked that about her.

Charlie doesn’t know what to say. In the past he went along with the rest of the guys as they mocked and ridiculed her when she talked about suicide. But there’s nothing that he can say today that would shake her. Nor does he really want to.

The guilt of being a part of that abuse when he knew it was wrong, when he told her he didn’t like to do it, started to eat away at him now. Now that he knew where it led to…now that he knew he had a hand to play in it…

He opens his mouth to try to say something that would make the discomfort go away. All that comes out is “Are you ok?”

He immediately regrets it, thinking it’s a stupid thing to ask. “Obviously I’m not ok, you stupid son of a bitch. Can’t you see my brains all over the wall?” This is what he expects her to say. Instead she looks sad and tries to make a genuine effort to answer his question. Perhaps she was just relieved that he doesn’t use the state that she’s in as an opportunity to berate her.

“I’m not sure yet. I don’t know what part of the brain it went through. I can talk just fine, but I’m having a really hard time moving. I haven’t been able to leave this bathroom. Probably been sitting here for a couple hours ever since I came to.”

“Well, is there anything I can do to help?”

Dee looked a little taken aback at his generosity. She shifted uncomfortably and turned her gaze away from him. There was something that she could ask of him, but who was she to ask it? Charlie just stared at her, wondering why she can’t just spit it out.

“Umm…well I need help moving around, as I can’t really do it on my own. Do you…do you think you could help me…get to my car?”

This request made Charlie very nervous. “What do you mean?”

Dee still couldn’t make eye contact. She started to get very quiet, as if every word she was about to say hurt her as much as her wound. “I mean…I need to get to the hospital…they’re the only ones who can fix me…and I can’t…get there by myself.” Her voice was barely audible, and she looked incredibly ashamed. “Do you…think you could…carry me to my car?”

Now Charlie understood why she couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes when she asked that. He felt his breath quicken and his hands get sweaty. “…carry you?”

“You don’t have to!” Dee said quickly, finally looking him in the eyes. Charlie could see the nervousness spike in her as well. “You could drag me if you wanted to. I just need help getting there.”

Charlie didn’t know what to do. He was now put in a position where for the first time in years he has to physically touch Dee. Of course, he doesn’t have to touch her. No one was making him. Dee wasn’t making him. Not that she could, she was the one that was vulnerable here. He was the one in a position of power. He could just as easily walk out of the room, which his instinct is telling him to do.

And doing that might condemn her to death. Not an option.

But to touch Dee again…to actually touch her, even in a situation like this, made him conflicted. Dee’s touch is both the greatest source of pleasure and anxiety that he’s ever known. He never forgot how soft her lips were against his, how gently her hand caressed his face. He never thought he could feel that kind of intimacy in his life, and the last place he thought he would get it from was Dee.

And yet the thought of Dee’s touch led to anxiety, the feeling of being trapped, pain, and betrayal. These feelings strip away the soothing warmth that comes with her touch and instead leaves him feeling cold and clammy. It wasn’t worth feeling one if it comes with the other.

“I don’t…I don’t want to do that.”

He could see the quiet urgency in her eyes fade and were instead replaced with annoyance.

“What do you mean, you don’t want to do that?”

The discomfort was overwhelming Charlie’s senses. He avoided eye contact and made himself small.

“I don’t want to…touch”

Dee stared right through him, the frustration building inside of her to the point of rage as she realizes what this is about. She responded with the coldness and callousness that only she is capable of.

“Oh goddamn it, you’re still hung up about that? I’m dying here! I can’t fucking move and you’re too much of a titty-baby to even drag me to my car? What is the point of you even being here if you’re not going to do anything? I don’t need you! Screw it, I’ll drag myself!”

And with that, she dropped from her sitting position onto the ground, half her body soaking in her own blood on the floor. It was not possible for her to even return to her sitting position again by herself, she was committed. Dee let go of the gun in her hand and with a fierce grunt she used her right arm to pull her body forward. She strained tremendously, and only moved ahead a few inches.

But Dee was not done. She repositioned her arm again, and pulled herself forward again, only gaining a few more inches. She did it again, and Charlie noticed the blood vessels popping in her head. She was using too much energy just to move a foot forward. But there was no way that Dee was just going to die in the bathroom, not now. She’ll die halfway across the living room from exhaustion if she has to, but she’s a goddamn fighter. Charlie looked at her in awe.

“Don’t look at me like that!” she snapped as she repositioned her arm a fourth time. “I’m doing the best I can!”

She heaved forward, repositioned her arm again, and heaved again a fifth time. By now, Dee was huffing and her face was starting to get sweaty. She looked a little dizzy…

“No hold on!” Charlie said, something clicking inside his head. “I’ll…I’ll help you.”

“No, no” said Dee, her voice thick with her trademark sarcasm. “I’m doing just fine, can’t you see? I wouldn’t want to offend you…with my touch.”

“You’re not going to make it to the door,” Charlie said with more firmness this time. “You’ll black out from exhaustion. Let me help you.”

Dee stared at Charlie for a bit, scanning his face. Then she released the tension from her body so she would be easy to move. “Fine.”

Charlie looked over her, a bit unsure as to what he should do. He committed to it, he knows he can’t turn back now, but where to touch her? Does he wrap his arm around her and heave her over his shoulder? Does he drag her out of the room by her hand, leaving a blood streak along the floor as he went? And could he touch her skin at all? Would that trigger some sort of panic attack? Would it make him feel trapped, helpless, and unable to move…?

“Oh don’t mind me, I’m just getting comfy in a pool of my own blood!” snapped Dee.

Charlie came to a quick decision. He thinks he figured out the best way to get her out of here. He grabs a fistful of hair and tries to drag her. She screams blue bloody murder.

“AH! FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!”

Charlie immediately lets go and Dee winces in agony. Profanities race through her head, all compound words featuring the word “dick”. But she’s in too much pain to say them. Finally, after a few minutes she leans up to look at Charlie and manages to get out:

“You were just pulling on the hairs…that were right next to…THE BULLETHOLE!”

Dee sighed and laid back down in the blood. This made Charlie feel silly. Was Dee right? Was it really that difficult for him to simply grab her hand? Would he ever be able to do it?

It was now or never. He had to try.

“Give me your hand.”

Dee looked up at him, eyes wide as if she wasn’t sure what she just heard. Then, after briefly hesitating, she extends her hand.

Charlie looks at her hand and then back at Dee. The steely determination is gone from her eyes, now he saw nothing more than quiet desperation. It was the face of a woman who has been forced to be tough all her life and is now accepting being vulnerable for once. She was putting her trust in him, and asking for him to do the same.

Charlie swallowed and knew he had to move quickly. If he hesitated, he would never take her hand. Not knowing what to expect, he exhaled and lunged at her hand.

The instant his hand made contact with hers he felt a warm sensation cascade across his body. It did the exact opposite of what he thought it would do. It didn’t make him panic, it didn’t spike his anxiety. It calmed him.

Charlie looked at their hands with surprise, then he looked up at Dee. She was smiling softly at him. It made him smile too.

This was what he missed.

And then without thinking, he yanked her up by her hand and wrapped his other arm around her. He tried to hoist her up onto him but Dee’s legs couldn’t offer any support.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” said Dee, staring around at the room as if she thought this was somehow a dream. “What the hell are you doing?”

“You didn’t think I was going to drag you out did you?” Charlie said with a cheeky smirk at her.

“Yeah, I did!” said Dee, trying not to think about how their bodies were pressed against each other. It was weird. “You grabbed me by the hair, dickhole!”

But Charlie crouched down, and with his arm around her, he threw her over his shoulder. A lifetime of manual labor made her feel light as a feather to him. “No way. You’ll just make me clean up the blood in your living room. And there’s no way in hell I’m coming back to your apartment after this!”

Dee rolled her eyes. “My hero.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really just exploring two story elements from S14 (Dee's deteriorating mental state and Charlie's discomfort around her) and trying to get some closure out of it while still having it feel like Sunny. I haven't seen anyone here willing to take a shot at it, so I thought I would.


	2. Chapter 2

The blinding white lights of the hospital burn Dee’s eyes as she wakes up from her sleep. She had no idea how she ended up here. Her head was throbbing intensely, making it difficult for her to take into account the events that transpired that led her to this moment.

She must have just imagined a scenario where Charlie found her on the bathroom floor and carried her to her car. She certainly doesn’t remember driving to the hospital, and the thought of Charlie being able to drive her there just seems absurd. Dee found it even more absurd that Charlie would be comfortable enough around her to carry her there when he had been spending the last two years avoiding her.

 _No, what actually happened is that I’m dead_ , Dee thought.

She turned over on the bed as she just realized that a doctor was talking to her. A very handsome one at that.

_Yup, I’ve definitely died and went to heaven._

“…so you may never be able to fully recover” the doctor finished.

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” Dee asked, still distracted at how hot this guy is.

The doctor gave a frustrated grunt. “Ok, actually try to pay attention this time.”

_Great, even in the afterlife people are rude to me._

“The bullet pierced through the cerebellum, which controls balance and coordination. You don’t realize how lucky you are, Deandra. It came incredibly close to severing the brain stem, but it has remained completely intact. Your surgery was a moderate success, but unfortunately you lost too much brain tissue so you may never be able to fully recover.”

“So…you’re saying that I’m not dead?” Dee asked, crestfallen.

“You sound disappointed by this news” the doctor remarked, giving her a pitying look. “No you’re not dead, but there will be at least some permanent damage from this. You have been enrolled in daily physical rehabilitation sessions after you leave here. It’s unclear if you will ever be able to walk again, but you may at least be able to move a bit better. Your therapy sessions…”

“Nope, no therapy” Dee said firmly. “I tried it once and it’s just a racquet. They make you do dishes…”

“Deandra, you will continue to be a danger to yourself until you get your mental state sorted out. Your father is taking care of…”

“Frank?” Dee asked with a scoff. “He thinks he’s a frog kid!”

“Be that as it may, you should be thankful someone out there is willing to help you. In fact, he and his friends are waiting outside…”

“No, don’t you dare! Don’t you dare let those jackasses in!”

“I’m sure they just need to see that you’re ok” the doctor said, heading towards the door and not taking into consideration Dee’s continued objections.

This was quickly becoming a humiliating experience for Dee. She just desperately wanted to get away from those guys, and now here they come when she’s at her most vulnerable? Why did it have to happen this way? The barrage of jeers and insults she goes through on a daily basis leaves her broken at the end of every day. Now here they come just to kick her repeatedly while she’s already down.

_Why did I have to flinch?_

“Heyooo!”

Before Dee even had time to get her defenses set up properly, out popped Mac’s stupid face from behind the door. Closely behind him was Dennis, holding a bag of what looked like cinnamon jelly beans- her favorite. Charlie and Frank entered the room last. They stared at her for a second while Dee tried to guess in her head who would hurt her first. Her money was on Dennis.

She was right.

“Well I gotta say Dee, as far as suicidal gestures go, this has got to be the most pathetic one I ever heard of.”

“Right?” Mac added. “Like if you’re trying to get sympathy from us, you could have gone with something a bit less permanent.”

“I don’t want your sympathy” Dee snarled. “And what makes you think this was a gesture?”

“You didn’t leave a note” Frank said. “We went to your apartment to get my gun back but the only note there was something that Charlie wrote.”

“What are you talking about?” Charlie said, giving Frank a confused look. “I texted you what happened, I didn’t leave behind a note.”

Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper with symbols on it instead of words. Dee was mortified by what was happening. _Please, Charlie. Please just take it and put it in your pocket. Don’t do this now, in front of everyone!_

It didn’t feel like things could possibly be more humiliating for her. Dee tried to write that note specifically for Charlie to read. It was just for him. She didn’t think anyone else would really care that much if she was gone. The note said everything she needed to tell him but didn’t have the courage to say. He needs to read it and do it privately.

_Not here! Good God, not in front of the guys!_

Charlie furrowed his brow as he attempted to read the note that Dee wrote. He was straining, it seemed clear to Dee that he couldn’t really make out what she wrote. After a little bit longer trying to read the note, he finally concluded “I didn’t write this. It’s complete nonsense.” And he crumpled the note up and haphazardly tossed it aside. Dee felt her heart shatter.

She tried to muster up an expressionless face but knew it was too late. Dennis had been side-eyeing her the entire time she was watching Charlie trying to read the note. “I’m sure you’re probably wondering why we brought the jelly beans.”

“To eat” Dee sneered. “That’s what they’re for.”

“Don’t sass me! Normally yes, but today happens to be the inauguration of the Jelly Bean League. Now the Jelly Bean League…”

“You sicko! You’re going to flick these at me? Well I hate to disappoint you, Dennis, but the exit wound is in the back of my head.”

“Oh, you clumsy bitch! Why couldn’t you have aimed better?”

Something about Dennis criticizing her poor aim really touched a nerve in her. “Oh I’m sorry! I was going for dead, not to be your little sideshow!”

“That’s not a problem” Mac said, walking towards her. “I can flip her on her belly.”

Dee felt that rage building up in her now, and believed she could properly defend herself even the state she’s in. The second Mac’s hand made contact on her shoulder she shouted “Rape! Rape! Get your hands off me! Rape!”

Mac immediately let go and got nervous. He looked anxiously at Dennis as it seemed his latest attempt to impress him backfired again, then back to Dee. “Alright, fine! Relax! We were just horsing around!”

“Yeah, Dee” Dennis added, giving her a strange look as if she was the one in the wrong here. “We were just trying to lighten the mood. You know that’s how we like to handle situations like this.”

“You could be a bit nicer, Deandra” Frank said. “We’re the only visitors you got.”

“Well I don’t want you assholes here! Get lost or I’ll have you kicked out!”

There was a long pause as the Gang let what Dee said to them sink in. She was visibly fuming as she glared at them trying to guess who was going to make the first snide remark. Her money was on Mac.

Nope, it was Charlie.

“So if we’re not doing the Jelly Bean League anymore, is it cool if I eat them?”

Dee’s expressionless face was starting to give a bit. How could Charlie be so careless of her feelings? The note was what mattered, not the goddamn jelly beans! She tried to think of some way to communicate non-verbally for him to grab the crumpled up note before he left, but knew that was impossible. There was no way he’d be able to pick up on that cue, and any attempt at doing so would attract her brother’s attention- the last thing she needed.

Dee felt hopeless. She may never be able to tell Charlie what she needed to tell him.

“Yeah you can have them, I guess” Dennis said, handing the bag to Charlie. “We’re leaving now, Dee. Give us a heads up next time you try this, so we can show you where to aim.”

He burst out laughing and looked around at the guys to make sure they were as well. Mac was in hysterics like Dennis comment was the funniest thing he ever heard. Frank chuckled a bit. Charlie gave a token smirk when he caught Dennis’s eye and immediately stopped when Dennis turned away. He remained where he was standing, staring at the bag of jelly beans after Mac and Dennis already left the room.

“You coming, Charlie?” Frank asked.

“No you go ahead” Charlie said, not taking his eyes of the jelly beans. “I’ll catch up with you later.”

Frank gave Charlie a pat on the shoulder and left the room. It wasn’t until after the door shut behind him that Charlie moved. He opened the bag of jelly beans and popped a handful in his mouth, then offered the bag to Dee.

She had half a mind to grab a handful and throw them at his head. There’s no way he would have stood up to Mac and Dennis, he would have joined in as well. Still, by sticking around it did seem like he was at least trying to make things right. And she always had such a hard time staying mad at him. She grabbed a handful of jelly beans and popped them in her mouth.

It did make her feel a bit better.

“They should only make cinnamon ones” she said, trying to break the ice. “They’re the best.”

“Yeah, there really good” Charlie said, popping another handful in his mouth. “I hate it when you think you got a cinnamon one and its red apple.”

“Yeah, gross.”

But that was the end of the small talk. They passed the bag back and forth, eating jelly beans and trying not to think of how awkward it was that they were alone. It felt to Dee that both she and Charlie had something important to say but neither had the courage to just say it. Or maybe they lacked the words to properly express what was on their mind.

Dee tried something a bit more substantial than the flavor of the jelly beans they were eating. “So…how did I even get here?”

“We took your car.”

“Yeah, but I don’t remember driving.”

“You didn’t” Charlie said through a mouthful of jelly beans. “I didn’t think you were well enough to drive, so I did. I had a hard time finding the right streets to turn on, then a tree got in my way…”

“Say no more” said Dee. It figures that Charlie would total another one of her cars. It would also explain how she doesn’t remember getting here. She assumed the ambulance came by to take both of them to the hospital after they crashed. Dee decided not to make a snide remark. While she felt annoyed that she will have to buy another car thanks to Charlie, she also wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for him.

“You really should buy nicer cars, Dee.” said Charlie, with an air of trying to impart wisdom to his buddy. “That way they don’t get damaged so badly when you crash them.”

“No, I should buy shittier cars so it doesn’t matter when they do get into a crash.”

“That literally makes no sense, but ok.”

It kind of felt like the ice has broken now. Maybe she could tell him. But right as she was getting about to say it, Charlie goes first. “Hey listen, sorry about the guys. They went a bit over the line.”

“A bit? I nearly died and they’re treating this like some sick joke.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like that. They don’t mean it that way.”

Dee couldn’t believe her ears. Even now when it was just the two of them, he was still trying to find some middle ground between her and the guys. He still isn’t able to take her side, even when there is no risk in doing so. She sighed and turned away from him. Charlie took it as a cue that she didn’t want more jelly beans and finished what was in the bag.

“I should have just let them do it” she said glumly. “They’re going to just flick them at me when my back is turned. Eventually, they’ll fill the hole in.”

Charlie picked up on her defeatist tone. “Come on! Don’t be like that, Dee.”

“Oh?” she said turning around to face him now. “And who is going to stop them? You won’t.”

“But that…that’s just them. That’s their thing. That’s not me.”

“But it’s all the same to me.”

Charlie sighed and looked down at his feet for a second. Dee could tell that this was making him uncomfortable. “Look, you know that just how the Gang works. That we kind of have to act this way around them. It’s all pretend anyways.”

“Is it, Charlie? Because for the past two years it hasn’t felt like pretend.”

But this might have been the wrong thing to say, as Dee felt the ice reform between them. Charlie was definitely uncomfortable now. She couldn’t tell if the reason that he’s been avoiding her hasn’t really gone away yet, or if he was feeling regret about the entire thing. He was avoiding eye contact with her and shifted uncomfortably where he stood.

After enough time passed, Charlie finally said. “Frank’s still waiting for me. I really should go now.”

Dee felt a wave of emotions hit her as he started to turn towards the door. “Wait, Charlie! Don’t go yet! I need you to do me a favor.”

“I really ought to…”

“It will be quick, I promise!”

Charlie stopped at the door and turned towards her finally making eye contact with her.

“You see that piece of paper next to your foot?” she said, pointing at it. “Can you hand it to me?”

Charlie frowned. “Ok, I guess. But I don’t know why you want this. It’s trash.”

“It’s not trash!” she insisted as her nerves began to build inside her. “I wrote it!”

This caught Charlie’s interest, as he bent down to pick the crumpled up paper and then walked towards Dee, handing it to her. She very carefully handled it like it was a piece of fine china, slowly un-crumpling it and smoothing it out as gently as she could. Her nerves were intensifying as her hands jittered more with each second she held the note. She tried her best to slow her breathing down, but all that did was make her gag.

“Did you really write that? I thought you like to write in sticks and circles.”

Her nerves calmed a little as she was momentarily distracted by Charlie’s bizarre comment.

“Are you…are you talking about letters?”

“Yeah, that’s how you like to write your notes” Charlie said, sounding impressed that Dee can write in a foreign language. “In letters.”

Dee tried to soften her tone a bit as this was not the time nor the place to take jabs at Charlie’s illiteracy. Instead she uses her sweet voice that she uses with him when she needs to help him understand. “Well yeah, but you…you sometimes have a hard time reading my letters. I thought maybe, if I wrote it this way…you’d get it. You’d understand.”

Charlie places the palm of his hand on his forehead with his fingers through his hair as he stared at the note. “I get that, but I couldn’t make sense of what you wrote…”

“…I…I know…” said Dee as she started to get choked up.

“…And if you died and you weren’t here to explain it to me, I’d never know what you…”

“I realize that!” Dee said in a tone that Charlie has never heard from her before. He looked at her and saw her eyes brimming over with tears. It was a strange sight to him. This was the side of Dee that he’s never seen before. The side that no one ever sees. But it exists all the same.

The moment Dee realized that she was being watched she closed her eyes and wiped them and her face dry. She kept them closed and tried her best to suppress any additional tears from falling. It wasn’t until she felt Charlie’s arm around her shoulders that she risked letting a few more silent tears lose.

After a couple of minutes pass, Dee feels his arm leave her shoulders. She opens her eyes as she hears Charlie say “You know, you can just tell me what you wrote. That way I’ll know.”

“I…I can’t…”

“Why?”

It was such an obvious reason to her that she was slightly taken aback as to how Charlie couldn’t get it. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be. She was supposed to be dead and he was supposed to read it and understand what she was trying to tell him. Saying out loud what she wrote defeats the purpose of the note. If she could just say it, she wouldn’t have wrote anything down and she would have just told him.

She might not have pulled the trigger at all.

But now, for the second time in her life, there’s something she desperately needs to get off her chest. Only this time, they weren’t stuck in a box on a sinking ship that was filling up with water. It wasn’t a now or never scenario. And even then, she chickened out and ratted Mac out for something completely irrelevant.

There will be other times when she can tell him. It was still too soon. She wasn’t ready.

“I’ll tell you later” Dee said softly.

“But why not…”

“Later” Dee said with more firmness, so Charlie knows not to press on about it. “Just…hang on to this ok? Don’t lose it or throw it away. Don’t let anything happen to it. Promise?”

It still didn’t entirely make sense to him. But it seemed to make perfect sense to her, and that was good enough. “Sure, Dee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently, Kaitlin Olson really did have a hole in her head from a bike injury that kids would throw jelly beans at, so it seemed too much like a thing the Gang would do to Dee to not include in this.
> 
> Not super happy with how I wrote Dennis (this was really just a Gang vs Dee chapter) as he actually would be worried about her and try to control her more after something like this. I'll try to include this dynamic in later chapters.
> 
> With regards to the cruise ship episode, it definitely seemed like she was about to confess to something much bigger than "Mac owns a Cowboys jersey." For the purposes of this fic, it was her feelings for Charlie.
> 
> TW: Panic attack in the next chapter


	3. Chapter 3

“I really don’t think we should be getting distracted.”

“How is this a distraction? This is strictly a business decision.”

“Oh please, Dennis. Since when do you care about Paddy’s as a business?”

“We have a vacancy right now, Mac! Would you like to do Dee’s job instead?”

“Well…no. Of course not. But _Dennis_ …”

This was driving Charlie nuts. He has a real hard time focusing on his custodial duties when Mac starts bickering like this with Dennis. For a good ten minutes Charlie has been standing in place, mopping one spot on the floor to the point where you could see your reflection in it 50 feet away. Not that anyone was paying attention to him.

Sometimes, Charlie wishes they’d just hook up and get over it. But at the same time he’s been in that boat before, and wonders if it wouldn’t make things even weirder between them.

“I just think you’re doing this for the wrong reasons, Dennis!”

“My reasoning is sound, Mac. We’re just making a new hire. Frank, back me up!”

Frank took a break from the sandwich he was making in his mouth, walked over to Dennis and took a look at his phone.

“Gotta agree with Dennis” he said, spraying bits of sandwich on the phone and bar surface. “Would be good to get some new blood here. Hey, go back to number 5. I think she has the best bagonzas.”

Charlie was nearing his breaking point as Mac made whiny sounds while Dennis and Frank ogled number 5. If he hears one more needy remark from Mac…

“But you don’t even know what she does for a living…”

 _Fuck this!_ Charlie lets out a feral shout and throws the mop handle on the floor. “I’m gonna go set rat traps in the basement” he says as he storms off.

Not even looking at Charlie, Mac responds “Nobody gives a shit. Dennis, I feel like you’re _ignoring me_.”

Charlie had no intention of going down there to set rat traps. He already did it earlier this morning, not that Mac or Dennis paid any attention. When he just needs to get away from the guys but isn’t quite angry enough to smash bottles, the basement becomes a refuge for him.

In the basement, Charlie rummages through the paint cans and grabs the only can conspicuously labeled “paynt”. He cracks it open and pulls out a crusty sock and spray paint. One hit later and Mac’s melodramatic ass wasn’t getting on his nerves anymore. He loves Mac like a brother, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t annoy him like a brother would.

Charlie pulls out Dee’s note and looks it over again. He has done this a couple of times already, but never entirely sure as to why. It was just strangely fascinating to him.

He remembered a time when she made a Valentine’s Day card for him, and how wildly upset she was when it wasn’t reciprocated. It was kind of odd; many years prior they all collectively agreed to stop doing the Valentine’s thing because it just brings out the worst in them. And yet, in the run-up to that day, Dee was the one that casually mentioned to the Gang (over and over again) that it would be cool if they did something like this again. And if someone wanted to give her a Valentine, she’d be totally cool with it.

Dennis was quick to change the subject every time it was brought up and the guys followed suit. But Charlie took the hint. He really isn’t as dumb as they all seem to think he is. He just didn’t think that she was all that serious about it. So when he couldn’t read her Valentine, Charlie thought he could get away with just ignoring it and in a couple days she’ll forget too and they can just go back to their normal dynamic.

Things rarely go the way you think they will.

Which is why he now finds himself in the basement, high on spray paint, reading Dee’s suicide note. This time, it looked like there was a serious attempt on her end to write her last words to Charlie in a way that he would understand. And Charlie found it fascinating as to what she’s trying to tell him after she’s gone.

He looks at the first line on the page and sees a stick figure of a girl, a teardrop, an axe, and a stick figure of a guy.

_So you want me to…chop down a maple tree and harvest the sap?_

What a bizarre request this is, to still want maple syrup from beyond the grave! And why did it have to be him specifically to get this for her? No, this can’t be right. Charlie has read this a dozen times now but it still reads the same. He takes another hit of spray paint and tries to read it again, hoping it would become a bit clearer. Still says the same thing. Well, maybe just one more hit and it becomes clearer. Nope. Maybe just one more hit…maybe just…

“Charlie, wake up bro!”

Charlie felt Mac shake him awake. He was now lying on the floor of the basement with the spray paint sock in one hand and Dee’s note in the other.

“You can get high and doodle on your own time. I need you to help me resolve a dispute.”

Charlie sluggishly pulls himself off the floor. Trying to ignore the fact that Mac wants to rope him into his argument with Dennis, he focuses on sneaking the note in his back pocket without Mac noticing as he puts the sock and spray paint can back in the bucket.

“You’re not sneaky, you know.”

Charlie’s high vanished at lightning speed as he whipped around at Mac. “What do you think I’m hiding?!?” he says in a way-too-panicked voice. Mac looked a little perplexed by the way Charlie was acting here.

“Your spray paint” he says, pointing to the bucket like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and Charlie instantly relaxes. “There’s only one bucket that says ‘paynt’, and you couldn’t even spell…whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“You want me to help you guys decide who to replace Dee with?” Charlie asked, also trying to switch the subject. “But I’m not a bar owner.”

“I know, but this isn’t really a business decision” said Mac, and Charlie could now feel his tone shift. This was a heart-to-heart he was having with his brother. “It’s a personal thing. I just think the chick he has in mind is…too hot, you know?”

Charlie had to stifle a snigger at how Mac was wording his dilemma. “Well what does it matter to you if she’s too hot? Now maybe Dennis…”

“Come on, you know what I mean! Don’t make me spell it out for you!” Mac says, frustrated that Charlie was messing with him like this. He doesn’t want to have the ‘Dennis talk’ with Charlie, and he knows Charlie doesn’t want to listen to it.

“Alright, bro” Charlie says as they start to walk back up the stairs. “I can be the tie-breaker, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t be. Frank is already on Dennis’s side. Just have my back on this, ok?”

When Mac and Charlie made it back to the bar, Dennis couldn’t help but smirk at the state Charlie’s in. “Nice backup, Mac. Charlie, come over here and look through these pictures. Tell me which woman you find the most attractive.”

Charlie took the phone and flipped through each picture. There were ten pictures total and he stopped for a second for each one. More than just a second for number 5 (blondes have always been his preference). When he was done, he handed the phone back to Dennis and said, “Well number 5 obviously.”

“I knew we could count on you, Charlie!” Frank said, affectionately rubbing him on the shoulders. “What do you think, she’s got to be related to the big-tittied weather-skank, huh?”

Charlie reaches for a beer, trying to ignore Frank’s vulgar remark, the look of betrayal on Mac’s face or the fact that he wasn’t entirely okay with the idea of getting rid of Dee. “How should I know? I’m not a scientist."

“Goddamn it, Charlie! You were supposed to have my back on this!” Mac snapped.

“Good thinking Charlie, siding with the winning team” Dennis says. “I for one see no objections to hiring her. Attractive women bring in customers, and that’s just good business sense. Hell, it’d be nice to have a good-looking waitress for once!”

Something about that last thing that Dennis said didn’t sit well with Charlie. He doesn’t know why it always bothers him when they put Dee down for her looks, but surely now that she’s not around to get the ego boost from hearing it they could at least admit she’s a little good looking. Occasionally.

“So we’re just going to hire another attractive waitress?” he asks. “And how is this good business sense?”

Mac was so excited that Charlie was back on his side that he didn’t even notice Charlie just called Dee attractive. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been saying Dennis! We don’t need some inexperienced floozy…”

“Silence!” Dennis snapped and Mac shut up immediately and looked down at the floor. Dennis turned around to Charlie, visibly annoyed that Charlie had the nerve to stand up to him. “A, Dee is not attractive, Charlie. This is a big step up for us. And B, she won’t recover for a while and we need someone to serve customers. Unless you’d like to fill in for Dee” he added with a scoff at the spray paint around his mouth. “You clearly have the time to waste, if you’re too busy getting high in the basement.”

This was making Charlie’s blood boil. If there’s one thing he hates, its Dennis questioning his work ethic when he himself doesn’t do shit around the bar. He wants to knock his fucking lights out for that, and knows he could, and knows nothing could stop him if he did.

Instead, he tries something a bit more reckless.

“So that’s it huh? We’re just going to get rid of Dee? Look, we all might not like her but she’s still a part of the Gang! She’s been here for many years, and I just think it’s stupid to get rid of her! You want to hire someone else, go ahead! But we all know we’ll chew her up and spit her out, and this time next week we’ll just be looking for a new one! At least we never have to worry about that with Dee!”

The bar became deadly silent now. Even some of the barflies turned to look at Charlie. Mac and Frank looked shocked, and even a bit unsure as to what might happen next. But Dennis was stone-faced. Yes he was in shock too that one of his minions dared to defy him like this. But Dennis knew he had one final option he could use against Charlie.

The nuclear option.

“Charlie” Dennis said, putting his arm around Charlie’s shoulders and using his soft, serial-killer-esque voice. It made Charlie feel very afraid. “I really didn’t want to bring this up to you in front of everyone. Especially considering your…childhood.”

Dennis was hitting all the right triggers. Charlie looked down and desperately wished he could be far away from here.

“You don’t really want to be around someone who could take advantage of you again, do you? And you _know_ she’s capable of doing it again.” Charlie tried his best to breathe slowly and calmly but this was getting to be too much. He tried not to think about the fact that Mac and Frank were watching him, and remained oblivious to what their expressions were.

“Ok fine” Charlie said in a quiet voice trying to pull away from Dennis. “I was just…”

“No, you will stay here and listen to me” said Dennis firmly, and his voice just felt more and more menacing to Charlie every second. His hand was tight around his shoulders now, Charlie was unable to move. He felt trapped and helpless, there was no escaping it. His breath was picking up pace, despite his best efforts to keep calm.

“Hiring someone new would be good, for your own sake. You can see that, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right Dennis” Charlie said even more quietly.

“You’re not going to question me again, are you?” Dennis asked. His face six inches from Charlie’s face, which was now beet red.

“No” Charlie whispered as tears streamed down his face. He felt himself getting dizzy, and wasn’t sure if Dennis was the only thing keeping him standing up.

“The last thing I would want is for you is to feel _unsafe_ at this bar” and the way Dennis worded it made Charlie feel more unsafe then he’s ever been around Dee. All of his senses were fuzzy and the instant Dennis let go of his shoulders he hit the floor.

“Whoops” Dennis said, effortlessly switching back to his default personality as if nothing happened. “Must have just been the spray paint. Mac, drag Charlie out of here so he can get some air.”

“Ok Dennis” Mac said quietly with a look of sheer horror on his face as he moved to Charlie. “Umm…Dennis?”

“WHAT?!?”

Mac flinched and turned away from Dennis. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t hire a new waitress. I’m just saying…”

“Turn around you fool!”

Mac turned around to look at Dennis and fiddled nervously with his hands. “I’m just saying, I think Charlie had a point about how we shouldn’t have to go through the hiring process over and over again. Maybe it would help if we get Dee’s opinion.”

Dennis and Frank looked at Mac surprised that he would actually want a woman’s opinion. “You really are desperate, aren’t you?” Dennis said with a scoff.

“It’s not that” lied Mac. “It’s just that…I think that…”

“Oh stop blubbering and get Charlie out of here!” Dennis snapped, and Mac didn’t need to be told twice. Squatting down to wrap his arms around Charlie’s shoulders, he lifted him up and started to drag him back towards the door before he slipped and busted his ass. Dennis laughed at his misfortune.

“What the hell?” Mac said as he grabbed Charlie again and got back up. “Why is it super slick in this one spot?”

Dennis shook his head and sighed once Mac and Charlie were out the door. It didn’t seem like he could handle any more insubordination from his minions. He looked to Frank and asked, “What do you make of all of this?”

Frank shrugged. “Well, I think we’re all in agreement that number 5 is our best option. But I’m also thinking that Mac and Charlie made some good points.”

“Oh Christ, you too?!?” Dennis said, astounded by the reactions he’s been getting from the Gang. “This is not the way it’s supposed to be! You were supposed to be my sla…you were supposed to be on my team, Frank!”

“I know Dennis, but I think it wouldn’t hurt to still get Deandra’s opinion. She been with us from the beginning, and knows how to do this job and deal with us better than anyone.”

Dennis rolled his eyes and gave a dramatic groan. He’s used to be on the winning team, but there seems to have been a bit of a revolt. There’s no point trying to fight this anymore, not that it would impact the outcome he selected in any way. “Fine, I’ll reach out to Dee” he says as he pulls out his phone. “Not that it makes any difference, I’m still going to hire number 5.”

“ _We’re_ hiring number 5” Frank corrected. “Because we’re co-owners.”

Dennis looked up from his phone and pondered what Frank said, as if he’s never considered this before. With a twisted smile he said softly to himself “Yeah. Co-owners. You’re my _equal_.”

Frank nodded and happily returned to the meats and cheeses that were sitting at the bar for a couple hours to make himself another sandwich. Dennis looked at him with disgust and contempt and went back to his phone, sending the pictures of his selects to Dee. 

Dennis had to admit it would be interesting to hear what Dee had to make about this situation. And even if she was getting replaced at Paddy’s, that doesn’t mean she gets to leave Dennis’s sphere of influence. Dee was the one minion he couldn’t afford to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be fun if Charlie accidentally stood up for Dee, as I don't think he would ever intentionally do this. I also didn't want Dee to be around to see it so this moment can exist without impacting their dynamic at all. And yes, I do think Dennis is enough of a POS to trigger a panic attack from Charlie in order to get what he wants.
> 
> It's 2 years to the day since Time's Up aired, so it seemed fitting to post another chapter. I've been torn for quite a while about their relationship and how I want to handle it in this fic. On one hand I don't want to shy away from it or just treat it like a joke like RCG seems to be doing. It's canon and that's that. On the other hand, I've long wanted to satisfy my desire for them to have a genuine attempt at closure. There's no way in hell it will happen on the show, so why can't it happen here?
> 
> I can't help it. They're still my favorite characters on Sunny, and I still love this duo. I assume if you made it this far, you do too.


	4. Chapter 4

The arteries in Dee’s arms burned like battery acid. She was two weeks into her physical therapy sessions, and Olena her trainer has made each one more rigorous than the last. Dee tried to signal to Olena that she couldn’t hold this position any longer.

“No focus on arm” she said in her thick Ukrainian accent. “Your leg needs healing.”

Olena had three chairs in a row in Dee’s living room, and instructed her to put her hands on the back of the middle chair and lift herself up this way. With Dee using her arms to support herself, Olena would then grab Dee’s right leg and lift it up to the seat of the right chair (Dee wasn’t yet capable of moving her leg independently in this manner). Dee was to hold it in this position for 30 seconds, then they would switch and do the left leg. Rinse and repeat 5 times.

It was exhausting work, but Dee really was trying her hardest to do well with her physical therapy. In fact, she can’t remember the last time she worked this hard for anything at all. It was the misery of being the Aluminum Monster for so many years fueling her desire to keep this from being another potentially life-long physical ailment. She couldn’t stand the thought of it being easier for the guys to pick on her. They clearly didn’t seem to care that she may never walk again, and it would be just like them to “misplace” her wheelchair and make her crawl around to get places.

She only exists for their amusement. _Bastards_.

Olena wasn’t pleasant to be around. Dee would often try to lighten the mood, but it didn’t seem like she got Dee’s sense of humor.

“Do you feel sensation in the leg?” Olena asked.

Through gritted teeth and with sweat dripping in her eyes, Dee tried to crack a joke. “Slow down, Olaf! If you want me to feel a sensation there, shouldn’t you at least buy me a drink first?”

“No joke, you’re not funny” Olena bluntly replied while she moved her leg off the chair. She was about to grab the left leg when Dee felt her phone vibrate. Dee let go of the chair and hit the deck, then swatted Olena’s hand away as her other hand reached into her sweatpants pocket.

“I told you, no phone!” Olena snapped.

“Relax, it will just take a second” Dee assured her, even though this was the fifth time today she told Olena that. Dee had been trying to get in touch with Charlie for several days now. She sent a couple dozen texts his way and he didn’t respond to a single one. All she need from him was a “K”, a thumbs-up, anything. Just something to let her know that he’s getting them and he’s doing okay. She hates when Charlie closes himself off to her. It scares her to not know if he’s okay, and scares her even more to think he has this kind of effect on her.

The worry still lingers when she finds out that it wasn’t Charlie that texted her, but the annoyance kicks in when she realizes it’s once again Dennis. She wants to fire back “Idiot, I can’t text you! I’m in the middle of my physical therapy session.” But that would make Dennis think that like her psychiatry sessions, she’s been skipping these as well. And to be fair Dee has been ignoring Dennis’s texts for days.

Add that to the list of things she has in common with Charlie.

“I take phone now!” Olena snapped as she snatched it out of Dee’s hand.

“Gimme my goddamn phone, Olaf! It’s Dennis, he’s on his way…”

“No focus on phone! Left leg!”

And with a sweeping motion Olena grabbed Dee’s left leg and swung it onto the left chair, a bit rougher than before as she was clearly losing patience. Dee grabbed the top of the chair again, but wasn’t even able to work up a sweat when she heard the doorknob rattle. Dennis was already here, and couldn’t open the locked door.

Pounding on the door, Dennis shouted “Dee open this door! I didn’t give you permission to lock it!”

Dee turned to the door “Not now Dennis! Wait until…” but she was drowned out by Olena shouting at her “No focus on door!”

“Your session is over, I’m taking you for a ride!” Dennis declared through the door. Dee, accepting defeat when Dennis gets this agitated, tried to drop her leg off the chair so she could go with him. Olena however, moved to hold her leg onto the chair.

“OPEN THE GODDAMN DOOR DEE, OR I’LL KICK IT DOWN!” Dennis roared from the other side.

“Open the goddamn door, Olaf!” Dee shouted, fully echoing her twin. “He’s gonna kick it down!”

“ONE…TWO…”

But Olena was already moving towards the door, visibly boiling over with rage that she was being interrupted by Dennis. She unlocked the door, and the instant Dennis shouted “THREE!” she flung the door wide open with her right hand. With her left, she caught Dennis foot that went right through where the door was a second ago. With a lazy flick of her wrist Dennis was completed upended, and landed on his back with a sickening thud.

“BWAHAHAHAHA!” Dee was completely beside herself with laughter, pointing at her brother who clearly got the wind knocked out of him and relishing every savory bit of Dennis’s misery. In a tone that through her laughter was as mocking and insulting as possible continued “She made you look like a bitch! Did you get a little boo-boo, Dennis? Need mommy to kiss it for you?” With one last squawk, Dee turned to Olena and with a wink said “Nice one, Olaf. Maybe I should buy _you_ a drink.”

The mention of Barbara catering to Dennis minor injuries as a kid while ignoring Dee’s back problems was a very sensitive subject for both of them, particularly after her passing. It was enough to get Dennis to rustle off the ground and dust himself off. Gesturing to Olena, he said “You’re lucky you’re treating my sister, or you’d end up on my list.”

This was a toothless threat and Olena knew it, which was why she didn’t react. And Dennis knew it was toothless as well, but it helps keep his ego intact. He walked towards the corner of the room where her wheelchair was safely out of the way and rolled it over to Dee.

“C’mon, Dee. I’m taking you to Doctor Granger. You’ve skipped two sessions and you’re not skipping another one.”

“She’s not finished…” Olena began, but Dennis held a finger to instruct her to be silent.

“Olena, Frank is paying you for your time and this session is officially over now. Nobody expects you to sort out hopeless cases. Believe me, I’ve tried for 40 years.”

Dennis grabbed Dee from under her shoulders and hoisted her up onto the chair. He was about to roll away when Dee remembered something.

“Wait, my phone!”

“No distractions” Dennis snapped. “You can have your phone back when…”

But Dee started shouting and shook the chair violently in a desperate attempt to get off of it. She swung her arms trying to hit Dennis and get him to let go of the chair. And Dennis did, accepting defeat when Dee gets this agitated.

“Fine!” Dennis walked back to Olena and took the phone from her. Pointing back at Dee, he remarked. “See what I mean? Hopeless case.”

Dennis rolled the wheelchair out of her room without closing the door behind him. Once they were going down the hallway, he changed his tone to the one he uses whenever he scolds his sister.

“Let me guess, you told me Olena could drive you to therapy instead of me because you knew you could bribe her into not taking you.”

“Yes” Dee grudgingly admitted.

“And you really thought I wasn’t going to find out?”

Dee had to stop and think about that as Dennis continued to roll her down the hallway. She has to admit she’s not as good at covering her tracks as Dennis is. There was no telling what sick things Dennis has done that she’ll never know about, yet she couldn’t even keep this secret from him. Dee resents Dennis more than anyone, but would be lying if she said she didn’t admire him. And she secretly hopes one day he’ll see her schemes can be as good as his.

“You are nothing but liabilities, Dee.”

 _Tell me something I don’t know_.

They made it to the front door of her apartment. There was a small flight of stone steps leading to the street where the Range Rover was waiting. Dee held out her arms to signal that she’d prefer to be carried down the steps, because she knew Dennis wasn’t strong enough to move her wheelchair down it gently.

And he wasn’t. Ignoring Dee completely, he turned the chair so her back was to the street, and with his back facing her grabbed the chair and walked down the steps at his normal pace. The chair crashed into every step, bouncing Dee around like a pinball. Her back increasingly seared with pain with every step, and she felt whatever progress she made the past hour instantly disappear. It was a miracle the chair didn’t shatter through all of this.

When they got to his Range Rover, Dee tried to clamber out of her chair into the passenger seat herself. But Dennis surprised her again. He grabbed her, and clearly struggling (and making a comment about her weight through gritted teeth), flung her gracelessly into the passenger seat and slammed the door. Dee groaned, wishing Charlie was there to do that. If she wasn’t so embarrassed about it, she’d admit that Charlie effortlessly carrying her the whole way was…kind of a turn on.

With her wheelchair in the back they took off to her therapist’s office. Dennis had his Steve Winwood CD playing in the hopes that the ride wouldn’t be an elongated, uncomfortable silence. But Dee’s back was still hurting, and she wanted to push Dennis’s buttons on the way up there. And knew just how to do it.

“So, how’s my replacement doing?”

All of the iciness in Dennis vanished and he had a weird look on his face. To Dee he looked like a hungry wolverine who just got handed a steak, but she knew him well enough to know it’s lust.

“Jessie? Oh, she’s wonderful. Everyone loves her, except for Mac.”

“She kind of looks like Jackie Denardo.”

“As a matter of fact, that’s her little girl. Well not ‘little girl’. She’s 21.”

Dee shook her head. “Nope. I saw the pictures you sent me and she’s definitely in her teens.”

“It said she’s 21 on her driver’s license. And that’s what really matters.”

Few things revolt Dee more than her brother’s creepy behavior to women half his age. “Gross.”

Dennis promptly snapped out of it. Quietly wiping the drool off his lip, he turned to Dee and asked “How is that gross? You have to be 21 to work at a bar!”

“So you haven’t banged Jessie yet?”

“Of course not. We all agreed we wouldn’t do that kind of thing when we started Paddy’s. And _most of us_ have been pretty good about that.”

Dee let that one sting for a bit. He was still capable of piercing into her soul, but that doesn’t mean he needs to see it. And it’s not like she doesn’t know his weak spots.

“But you have at least tried to, right?”

“Well, no…not exactly…”

“What’s wrong, Dennis? Didn’t you say you were a playboy? Should be an easy lay for you. Or are you as much a stumbling mess with her as you are with her mother?”

“What? C’mon…I’m just saying”

“I think I know what really going on here. It’s not about Jessie at all. It’s Mac. You don’t want to cause problems with your partner.”

“He’s not my…Mac and I…we’ve banged other people and he’s fine with it!”

“Apparently not with Jessie. After all, it would violate the rule you’ve been pushing the entire time. And we know the reason you made that rule was so Mac would know not to sleep with you.”

“That…that’s not the reason!”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe the real reason is this has all been a vain attempt to repress your desire to have him split you open like a coconut.”

“You…you…YOU GODDAMN BITCH!”

Dee, both amused that this is the best Dennis could come up with and pleased with herself for winning yet another round with her brother, snickered as Dennis quietly fumed from behind the wheel.

_He's too easy._

With the exception of Steve Winwood, the rest of the ride to the therapist’s office was silent. When they actually got there, Dennis plopped the chair down next to the passenger seat and told her to get in it. Mere seconds after she did he was already back behind the wheel, gunning it without waiting to check if she got in okay. Once she actually did make it inside and was in the waiting room, Dee pulled out her phone and checked for texts. Frustrated at still seeing nothing, she tries to reach out to him again.

U ok budy?

_Goddamn it, Charlie. Don’t do this to me!_

Pls txt. Need 2 no.

_Please. I’m trying to make things right. Just let me try._

After staring at her phone for a few minutes and not getting a response, Dee realized she needed to call it quits for the day. She slid her phone in her pocket and tried to get her defenses ready for the psychiatrist. It was only a couple seconds later that she felt her phone vibrate, and her defenses vanished instantly as she whipped out her phone to see who it was.

It was Charlie.

👍

The tension that was racking up through her body vanished as she breathed a sigh of relief. She felt the phone vibrate again.

U ❤ me?

Dee knew the answer to this one. But, it’s complicated. She’s never actually told him that. Not even all those times they were shit-faced drunk together. She’s thought it before, on more than a few occasions. One time, when she was sure they were all going to die, she desperately wanted to tell him. But she didn’t have the courage to say how she feels about him then. And especially now, with everything that happened between them it somehow felt gross to tell him.

It just didn’t seem like the right time. But he’s on the phone now, and she needs to respond somehow. So she compromises.

👍

A couple seconds pass when Charlie responded with a question that was much harder to answer.

Then y u hert me?

Dee looked away from her phone. Even in the note she wrote, she didn’t have a good excuse for this. Nor could she think of one while he’s on his phone. It’s inexcusable, and she knows it. Dee was still searching her brain to think of something to say when the door to Dr. Granger’s office opened.

“Come on in, Deandra.”

In Dr. Granger’s office Dee was paying more attention to the artwork that was framed on the walls, rather than the therapist commenting on her missed appointments. She felt like this was a waste of time, and made it that clear to Dr. Granger.

“Ok, let’s get something straight here. I’m only here because Dennis is making me be here. You’re not going to be able to fix my problems.”

“It’s common for patients to feel that way, but I encourage you to be open minded about this.”

“Well the last therapist I had was a twat, so you’ll forgive me if I don’t. I’ve been practicing self-therapy for years and still ended up in this position, so don’t beat yourself up when you fail too.”

Dr. Granger picked up on the defeatist tone in Dee’s voice, and attempted to be encouraging. “Self-therapy has its blind spots. It helps to get an impartial perspective.”

“Under normal circumstances, yes. However I happen to have three quarters of a major in Psychology, so I know what I’m talking about.” Dee said this with an air of importance, so as to seem like a peer to Dr. Granger.

“Well, I have a PhD, and know what I’m talking about as well.”

Dee got a little defensive from this hit on her ego. “Alright, no need to turn this into a dick measuring contest! Just wanted to point out I’m an Ivy Leaguer. I see you went to” and she took a glance at the degree on her wall “…Eastern Reserve University!”

She let out some derisive laughter, to communicate to the therapist she’s beneath Dee. “Wow, only the best for daddy’s little girl huh? Hey, any updates about the new campus they’re opening, next to the tattoo parlor?”

“Let’s not get off-topic here” Dr. Granger said, completely ignoring the swipe at her alma mater. “Have there been any other attempts at suicide?”

“No, just gestures. Those don’t count.”

“They absolutely count!”

Dee shrugged. “Ok. I mean like, one time, I overdosed on pills after Chardee Macdennis.”

“What’s Chardee Macdennis?”

“Ooh, glad you asked!” said Dee, excited that she knows something Dr. Granger didn’t, and is in a position to teach her. “Chardee Macdennis is basically every board game ever made, rolled up into one. My friends and I invented it. Ok, so there’s three levels. Mind, body…”

“I got to stop you” interrupted Dr. Granger, holding her hand up at Dee. “I don’t need you to explain how the game works.”

“No I do, you need to know the context. I drew the emotional battery card, and the guys berated me for two straight hours. They started with the usual shit about how I’m talentless and unfunny, and called me a bird whenever they needed to stall for time. But then they took it way further, saying that my mother should have aborted me and that no one could ever love me because my soul is dogshit. You know, things like that.” Dee said all of this in a casual, matter-of-fact manner that Dr. Granger found alarming.

“And they were screaming it at me and trying to make me cry, but I wasn’t about to given them the satisfaction and be mocked further for losing the game. But I still wanted to get back at them and make them feel guilty for taking it that far. And it worked! Mac found me and told me they didn’t mean all those awful things they said. I mean, they meant it when they said I was talentless and ugly and gross and looked like a bird, but all that other stuff they didn’t really mean. And then, we all went to go get smoothies together!”

Dr. Granger stared at Dee for a few seconds, mouth agape at how proud she was that her suicide attempt gained sympathy from her friends. Still trying to process all this, she remarked “How terrible!”

“No they were great! It was strawberry banana, with just a hint of orange. Good stuff!”

“You consider these people to be your friends?”

“Of course!” said Dee, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “They’re the only friends I have.” Then after giving it a moment’s thought, she corrected. “Ok, maybe I wouldn’t go as far as to call them friends. It’s more of an ‘I have to associate myself with these people or I have no one’ kind of thing. Mac’s not my friend. He strangles me, and I don’t like it when he does that…” Dr. Granger did a double-take after that comment. “Frank’s just the dickwad who raised me. Dennis is my twin, I don’t really have a choice there. Charlie. Charlie’s my friend.”

“Was he standing up for you, at least?”

“No, he’s never once stood up for me. In fact, he was shouting the meanest insults at me that day. Ooh, speaking of Charlie, think fast!”

Pleased with herself that she finally found something she could get the therapist to help her with, Dee pulled out her phone and tossed it to Dr. Granger. She looked at this perplexed with what Dee’s intentions were. “What’s this?”

“Charlie texted me and wanted to know why I hurt him, and I don’t really have a good answer for that. But you could think of one!”

Dr. Granger looked a bit disgusted at what Dee was trying to get her to do. “That would be unethical.”

 _Unethical_. Dee laughed, amused at how little the therapist gets her. As if that mattered to her. As if anything was over the line, if it meant being back on Charlie’s good side.

“Who gives a shit about that? It’s my phone. Just text him back and he’ll think it’s me.”

Dr. Granger shook her head. “I can’t do that.”

“Oh, you can’t do that huh?” Dee sneered, gesturing to Dr. Granger’s degree. “Some PhD you got there. I guess your school wasn’t as good as they said it was on TV.”

“Let’s switch gears, here. Do you have feelings for this man that go beyond friendship?”

Dee seemed weirded out and repulsed by the suggestion, like she would if anyone else asked her that. “Pfft. Are you kidding me? Charlie? No way!”

The phone in Dr. Granger’s hand vibrated, and Dee’s performance immediately vanished. “Wait was that him? Can you give me my phone back?”

“I don’t think we should get distracted.”

“Read it then, if you won’t give it back to me!” Dee’s keenness was unmistakable, and was followed by a bit of anger when Dr. Granger didn’t respond. “I’m serious, read it or this therapy session is over!”

Dr. Granger looked down at the phone, and cleaning up the profanity read aloud “Where are the gee dee batteries? How come we only have triple A's?”

“Huh?”

The phone vibrated again and she read the next text. “Oops, sorry. Thought you were Dennis.” And the therapist had a mildly amused look on her face that made Dee think she saw through her.

Dee sighed. Her attempt to play her cards to the chest not working, she decided to choose her next words carefully. “Oh, ok. Suppose…I did at one point.” She shrugged. “So what? It’s just a silly little fantasy, right? Nothing more.”

“I don’t see it that way. There seems to be an extreme correlation between your self-worth, and the need for validation from your friends. And if romantic feelings are involved, it can manifest itself in very ugly ways.”

Dee looked glumly at the ground. “You don’t have to tell me that. I’ve been living it for a good two years now.”

“Care to be more specific?”

They were treading into dicey territory now. There’s some things that she absolutely cannot talk about to a therapist and this is one of them. This was one of the reasons why Dee believed Dr. Granger couldn’t help her. She started to feel cagey about the whole situation.

“No, no I don’t care actually. And why are you only riding my dick about it? I’ve noticed you’ve yet to bring up Mac and his obsession with Dennis.”

“This isn’t Mac’s therapy session.”

“Oh? Then what about Charlie stalking the Waitress for 15 years? Or Dennis and how much of a creep he is about Jessie. Do you think that’s healthy behavior?”

“Deandra, you’re trying to deflect onto your friends rather than deal with your issue of…”

“Goddamn it, weren’t you listening to me?! I just explained how we all do it! So why are you only dogpiling on me, trying to make me feel bad?!”

“I’m not dogpiling, I’m trying to help.”

“WELL SOME HELP YOU ARE! BRINGING UP SHIT I ALREADY FEEL GUILTY ABOUT! YOU REALIZE THERE ARE THINGS I CAN’T FIX, NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY, RIGHT?! YOU THINK THIS HASN’T BEEN KEEPING ME UP AT NIGHT?! THEN WHY DID I TRY TO END IT ALL?!”

The room was silent for a very long time. Dr. Granger didn’t want to push Dee more on this issue anymore. And Dee, a bit taken aback at her outburst, eventually broke the silence by quietly saying “I told you. I told you, you can’t help me.”

Dr. Granger tried switching gears again. “Have you ever tried to leave your old life behind, and start a new one?”

“Well, yeah. We’ve talked about…” and then stopped herself when she realized she was referring to that time she and Charlie nearly left Philly on Peter Nincompoop. Even old memories she used to look back on fondly sting her a bit now. “I mean…the idea crossed my mind. From time to time.”

“Deandra, it’s not my place to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do. And I’m not going to press this issue, as you’re clearly not comfortable talking about it right now. However, if you truly believe you’ve exhausted every attempt at making things right, there’s no sense in lingering and becoming a danger to yourself again.”

Dee gave Dr. Granger a confused look, as she slowly processed what the therapist was telling her. “What do you mean? Are you saying I should leave the Gang behind? Like, forever?”

“Only you know if that’s what’s best for you.” Dr. Granger said cryptically.

The thought of even having one day just to herself seemed impossible. But to cut the guys out of her life entirely? That was just surreal. Dee wracked her brains on how such a scenario would be feasible. Should she just abandon them all one day? Leave no trace of where she went and no method with which they could contact her? It was a frightening thought, having that much independence when they have beaten her down so much and became such an integral part of her life.

Was she even capable of making such a step? Could she really pull this off without her brother sucking her back into the black hole that is Paddy’s Pub? And what about when the inevitable happens and she comes crawling back to them? Could she stand the barrage of taunting from them when she got a little whiff of freedom?

Questions were racing through her head that she couldn’t answer yet. Maybe not ever. So she starts with an easy one. “Can I get my phone back?” And Dr. Granger got up from her seat, understanding that their session was over, and handed the phone back to Dee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what the physical therapy for such a severe injury would be like. If you know more about kinesiology than I do (you do), then you may have to suspend your disbelief a little bit at the beginning.
> 
> Wanted to write a Dee-centric chapter. She's such a great character and is so underappreciated in the fandom (it even took me a while for her to grow on me). I hope I'm getting Dee right? Feel free to leave your thoughts in the comment section.
> 
> This has been a pretty heavy fic. I get for some it's not as fun to read, but that doesn't mean there can't be some lighthearted/sweet moments in later chapters, right? You guys have been very patient.


	5. Chapter 5

Very few people would consider crawling around in the sewers naked to be a form of entertainment. Even fewer would be willing to do it with their maybe-dad. But Charlie couldn’t imagine anywhere else he’d rather be, even as he’s getting pummeled by a wall of “water” with Frank.

“Oh man!” Charlie shouted over the sewage, enjoying the sensation of the sewage on his skin. “This is really cleansing my pores!”

“I know!” Frank shouted back, enjoying this every bit as much as his maybe-son is. “This is the tits!”

As the roar of the sewage slowly dies down, the excitement starts to build up in the two of them. Fresh debris gets scattered behind every wave, and they were interested to see what was left behind this one. Charlie in particular was in his element here, as he has the unique ability to take things other people would consider trash and turn it into something cool.

“I don’t know why anyone would waste money on pool memberships when the sewer is free” Charlie said as the floor was just damp enough that he could put his dry clothes down for a second and not risk ruining them.

“Bunch of tight-asses” Frank responded. “I’ve been around enough of those to last a lifetime. Fringe class is where it’s at.”

Charlie put his clothes down and was just about to walk away when he heard his phone vibrate. Under normal circumstances he would have the option to ignore it, but the sewer gave it a loud echo effect that caught Frank’s attention.

“Well you’re awfully popular today” noted Frank as he styled his hair with leftover sewage.

“Yeah, it’s probably just Dee again” said Charlie dismissively. Frank shot him a strange look. “What? I’ll get back to her later. This is our time.”

Even if he wasn’t being sincere about getting back to her, he was about not wanting to be interrupted right now. Nothing could get between them when it was Gruesome Twosome time.

Charlie and Frank examined the debris on the sewer floor, casually turning them over with their toes and occasionally picking something up if it looked particularly interesting. Unfortunately for them, it didn’t seem like this wave brought a particularly good haul. At one point Frank found a couple of pennies, but after rubbing the grime off them realized they weren’t going to be valuable. At another point Charlie was excited about the slingshot he found, but Frank warned him to put the condom down and that he was not to touch it again.

The two of them were ready to give up when Charlie spotted something shiny in the distance. “HOLY SHIT!” he shouted as he raced off towards it with Frank waddling behind him trying to keep up. Charlie eagerly picked the object up and held it for Frank to see.

“Check it out, Frank! I found a shiny rock!”

Frank looked at it closely. “That’s peridot.”

Charlie looked confused. “What the hell is perry-go?”

“Peridot is a gemstone. It’s said to cure depression and open the heart. Crock of shit if you ask me.”

Ideas were racing through Charlie’s head about what uses he could make of the gemstone, especially since it seemed to have magic powers. “Nice! I could probably fashion this into a necklace or something. I bet the Waitress would get a kick out of that!”

Frank groaned. “Again with the Waitress? She’s no good for you and you know it.”

Charlie tried to downplay how defensive he was feeling about this. “I mean yeah, things didn’t really work out the first time, but that doesn’t mean they can’t work out a second time. You just don’t know her like I do.”

“Yeah I do, I banged her too!”

“I’m still not totally cool with that.”

“Look I’ll admit the Waitress is a nice piece of ass, but that’s it. You had your fun with her, now it’s time to move on.”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?!”

This trip to the sewer was starting to become un-fun for Charlie. He hates arguing with Frank, and he really didn’t want to talk about why he still chases after the Waitress. Chasing after her after his fantasy of her was broken is nothing at all like it was before. It just felt so empty and hollow, but Charlie really didn’t know what else he was supposed to do.

“Because…I…I don’t have any other options!” Charlie shouted, throwing his hands up wildly.

“That’s bullshit, Charlie! You had options!”

“I can’t think of a single one.”

“You had a hot rich girl on your dick, and you threw her away for nothing!”

Charlie feigned confusion as to what Frank was referring to. “Who?”

“The Taft girl!”

He paused and continued to pretend like he didn’t know what Frank was talking about, in an attempt to switch the subject. “…Ruby?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh this again!” Charlie exclaimed, dropping the act. “Are you guys going to give me shit about that for the rest of my life?”

“Yeah!”

“I mean, I don’t see what the big deal is. What’s so special about her?”

“I’m just saying there were options besides the Waitress” said Frank, no longer angry and now trying to be fatherly with Charlie. “Cut that bitch out of your life and you’ll be happier, trust me.”

If anyone else told him to ‘cut that bitch out of your life’ he would’ve been angry enough to attack. But Charlie knows Frank well enough to know Frank’s the one person who would genuinely put his best interests at heart here. And Charlie had to admit, it’s exhausting. It’s exhausting to spend half your life chasing after someone who doesn’t want to be with you. He may have had the energy for it in his 20s when he didn’t really know her that well, but it’s different in your 40s. And no matter how hard he tries to suppress it and go crawling back to the warm comfort of his Waitress fantasy, he can’t when he’s constantly burdened by the knowledge of the last few years that she really is no good for him.

Charlie wishes it was as easy to move on as Frank seems to think it is. More and more he wishes he could find someone that he instantly clicks with. Someone who he could truly be open with and be himself, and she could be that way with him. Someone with whom it didn’t feel like grueling work to maintain a relationship, and things just kind of happen naturally.

If he thought about it long enough, there might have been one time he thought he found exactly that.

_No, that’s just a silly little fantasy. No different from the Waitress one._

“Yeah, you’re right” said Charlie, hoping that the conversation would just be over and he wouldn’t have to think about this. Then they can go back to the apartment with his gemstone, huff some glue and not have to confront uncomfortable inner thoughts.

But he would have to wait a little while longer to escape to glue induced bliss, because Charlie’s phone vibrated again with an echo that filled the sewer. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, hoping that Frank wouldn’t bring this up as well.

He did.

“What the hell’s going on between you and Deandra?”

“It’s nothing” Charlie lied. “We’re just texting back and forth.”

Frank wasn’t fooled. “Really? Because she tells me the two of you have barely talked for months.”

He wasn’t sure what surprised him more, the fact that Frank called him out or that he knows he hasn’t really been in touch with Dee. “She…she talks to you about me?”

“Yeah, and it’s annoying as shit really” said Frank, leaning into this as if he wants Charlie to take a hint. “But she says Mac and Dennis wouldn’t get it. And that nobody really gets you like I do.”

Charlie didn’t immediately respond to it, as he was still trying to process what all of this meant. When Frank thought he wasn’t acknowledging his comment, he carried on in a blunt but still fatherly way. “You really ought to try patching things up with her, Charlie. It would make the two of you feel better. And it would get her off my ass, that way everybody wins.”

He once again felt annoyed by a comment Frank made, about how he should ‘just patch things up with her’. Sure he wishes he could do that. It’s not like he doesn’t miss her. But it’s complicated. Charlie is instinctively aware that Dee still likes him, and he’s not sure what to make of that. This was the reason he’s been avoiding her the last few months, because of the idea Dennis planted in his head that she’s just softening him up so she can bang him.

And given her track record with men, he didn’t think he was wrong to assume that at first. But surely if that’s the case, wouldn’t it have happened already? She at least seems regretful about it, which is a far cry from how she treated Ben and Rex. And if it’s gotten to the point that she’s talking to Frank about him, maybe she’s also being genuine about patching things up with him?

Charlie knew that getting her off of Frank’s ass is his true motivation, but that doesn’t mean that Frank’s not being sincere and is at least trying to help. And he had to admit it was clever of her to reach out to Frank. _She’s right, there really is no one who gets me like Frank. I can count on him for anything._

And that gave him an idea.

“Hey Frank, can we make a stop before we get back?”

***

One week later Dee was sitting alone in her apartment late at night watching a scary movie. Horror movies don’t really scare her like when she was younger, as she now can predict every jump scare before they happen. It’s the same formula every time: someone walks into a deserted bedroom, it gets deadly quiet, wait for it, then BLAM! Out comes the demon hiding behind the closet door.

No, resorting to watching horror movies is peak boredom for her. So halfway into the movie, it’s time for jump scare number 11. The movie gets deadly quiet, and Dee holds her breath waiting for it to come and just wanting to get it over with.

The front door flings wide open. “HEY DEE!”

Dee shrieked and flinched violently, sending the bowl of popcorn in her lap flying through the air and crashing into the living room floor, spilling its contents everywhere.

“Oops, sorry” said Charlie, closing the door. “Should have knocked.”

She sighed and shook her head. “What do you want Cha…well the knocking is just pointless now!”

But Charlie knocked anyway and opened the door a second time. He remained standing in the doorway with a hand behind his back and a goofy grin on his face. Dee was confused.

“What?”

“Can you come outside real quick?”

“You can come in if you want” Dee assured him. “I’ll trick Olaf into cleaning this up tomorrow.”

“No that’s fine” said Charlie, fidgeting in the doorframe. “Just come on out here. I got something for you.”

Her annoyance was being replaced with curiosity. “You…you got something for me?”

“Yeah, I think you’re going to like it.”

She had to admit this was very strange behavior from him. Charlie only ever goes out of his way to do nice things for the Waitress. And yet here he is at _her_ doorstep, late at night, with some kind of gift for her. Dee didn’t like how excited she was getting about this.

“Would you just come out here already?! Be cool!” snapped Charlie impatiently.

Dee rolled her way to Charlie, crunching up the popcorn on the floor with her wheelchair. She was absolutely giddy when she got to him, but did her best to downplay it and be cool.

“Okay, let’s see this then.”

_This is too good to be true!_

And it was, as Charlie triumphantly showed her what he was holding behind his back. It looked like it was just a jar of brown liquid. _Figures._

“What the hell is this” she asked, her annoyance back in full force.

“Homemade maple syrup!” Charlie proudly announced. “Frank and I chopped down a maple tree out in the woods, then we took the bit that we needed and brought it back to Philly. Harvested the sap and made syrup out of it. Saved some for ourselves of course, it’s tasty stuff! Sorry it took so long to get you this, you wouldn’t believe how much work it takes to make this. Would’ve been easier to pick it up at the store, but you didn’t want that.”

Dee remained silent but cut her eyes back and forth between Charlie and the syrup, trying to make sense of what he did and why. Her lack of reaction was making him a bit nervous. “Well? What do you think?”

Her callous sarcasm bled through when she finally spoke “Great. Now I won’t have to eat dry waffles.”

Dee’s tone was unmistakable to Charlie. It kind of reminded him of how the Waitress would throw it back in his face whenever he did something nice for her. It never really bothered Charlie when the Waitress was cruel to him, he would just dismiss it with a shrug and carry on. But for some reason that he can’t explain, it really bugs him when Dee does this.

“You bitch! I do something nice for you and you throw it back in my face?”

“How is this nice? I never wanted this.”

“Yes you did. It’s what you wrote in your note.” And then he reached into his pocket and pulled out her note, which was now covered in syrup blotches. She looked at the note in horror, and with rage boiling over inside her.

“Are you fucking kidding me?! That was a suicide note! What good would maple syrup be when I’m dead?!”

“I don’t know, you tell me! Look, if you didn’t want that maybe you should have made that more clear!”

“Well maybe if you took a couple minutes out of your day to learn how to read, we wouldn’t be in this position!”

“There’s nothing wrong with my reading!! You don’t explain things well enough for me!!”

“I go _out of my way_ to explain things for you!! And I don’t know if you noticed Charlie, but I’m the only one who does that kind of thing for you!! Name one person in your life that ever, even occasionally, shows the slightest bit of concern for you!!”

He wanted to fire back at her even though he knew she was right. These days, Mac and Dennis were so up each other’s asses that it was really just her and Frank. Instead Charlie and Dee stood there fuming at each other. As unpredictable as the two of them were, neither was entirely sure as to what was about to happen next.

But before they could make this situation even worse, the door across the hall opened and a pudgy balding man appeared from behind it. “Hey, go have your fight inside! Don’t do it in the hallway!”

“What are you, the hall monitor?!” Dee fired back. “I can be as loud as I want to out here!”

“You” he said to Charlie, pointing at him. “Roll your little girlfriend back inside!”

“Don’t drag him into this!” snapped Dee, feeling suddenly protective of Charlie.

“C’mon Dee, let’s just go inside.” Charlie tried to push Dee back into her apartment, but Dee stopped him.

“Don’t let this asswipe push you around Charlie!”

“Pipe down!” her neighbor bellowed, which made Dee become completely unglued. 

“BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS! BLOW IT OUT YOUR ASS!”

“Fuck you, you crazy bitch!” he finished as he went back inside, slamming the door behind him.

“Yeah, blow it out your ass!” shouted Dee, determined to get the last word in but allowing Charlie to roll her back inside and shut the door behind them.

“Goddamn dickhead neighbors!” she ranted as Charlie let go of her chair and she rolled herself to the fridge for a beer. “I hate it here, Charlie. Every neighbor I ever had just hates me for no reason. Think fast” she added as she grabbed two beers from the fridge and chucked one to Charlie. Although he wasn’t expecting it at all given the flaming row they just had, he still had the reflexes to put the syrup jar on the ground and catch the beer mid-air.

Dee opened her beer and took a deep swig, then continued on. “I shouldn’t have even been living in an apartment in my forties. I was supposed to have already had a successful acting career. I should have been able to just put my feet up at this stage in life, you know? Hire some immigrants to cook my meals and clean my house and not have to do shit.” She was mainly just lamenting her situation to herself, but when Dee finally looked at Charlie she noticed he was just standing there and hadn’t even open his beer yet. “What’s wrong? That beer doesn’t have enough hops for you?”

“Oh no, it’s not that” said Charlie, fumbling for an excuse to give to not drink. He wanted to believe that things were improving between them, but the fact that he still didn’t really want to get drunk with her indicated to the two of them he wasn’t 100% there yet. “It’s just…you know…I think I have a drinking problem.”

Dee cocked her head and looked at him with a quiet sadness. “It’s about what happened between us, isn’t it?”

Charlie shifted awkwardly. “Yeah.” It’s true that he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable in her apartment. It still appeared in his nightmares, however his old nightmare was very slowly being replaced with a new one. One with blood on the walls, and his best friend dead on the floor.

She took another swig, hoping the alcohol would make this less awkward for her. “Well if it helps, with the state that I’m in, I literally couldn’t force myself onto you tonight.”

“I didn’t think you could the first time.”

Charlie’s brutal honesty cut through any notions that getting a buzz would cushion the blow. They were actually talking about it for the first time. Not like whatever that bullshit at the sexual harassment seminar was, but for real.

He had one simple ask for her. “Why?”

He stared at her, but she could only stare down at the beer in her hands. Once again, he was asking a question that she couldn’t answer. And any excuse she could give wouldn’t protect her ego, not when her best friend was standing in front of her hurt. So she decided to do something she has never tried before, and completely set her ego aside for the moment.

“I don’t have a good reason for it. And I know that’s not what you want to hear because you’re hurt and confused and you want answers, and I get it. And believe me, if I thought there’s anything I could say or do that would make it better I would have.”

She still questioned whether this was good enough, but also felt the small relief that came from no longer kicking the can down the road. And as for Charlie, the thing that caught him off guard was Dee not trying to justify her actions. As he was still processing all of this, he responded “It wasn’t supposed to be that way when it was just us. We made a really good team.”

“I know” Dee quietly replied. She wasn’t sure what stung more; the fact that Charlie still thinks they made a really good team, or him using the past tense to describe it. It made her think about that day they broke free of the Gang and everything that happened since. “It’s weird, I used to think that maybe it was just the Gang that makes me like this. That I could change and be a different person without them. But maybe not. Maybe I can’t change.”

“Here, let me walk you through that” she said, noticing that he still clutched onto her note with his free hand and gesturing him to come over.

“Sorry for ruining your note” he said as he handed the note to Dee and sat on the couch next to her.

“It’s fine, I have it memorized.” She tried her best to rub syrup off the lines and used her finger to guide Charlie through the symbols on each line. The first line had a female stick figure, a teardrop, an axe, and a male stick figure.

“That wasn’t sap by the way, it was a teardrop. It means I’m sorry for hurting you.”

The next like had an arrow with an X through it pointing to a male stick figure, and an arrow pointing to a female stick figure.

“It wasn’t your fault. It was mine.”

The next line had a female stick figure, a checkmark, a male stick figure, and a smiley face.

“I only want you to be happy.”

The next line had a male stick figure, a thumbs-up sign, and a female stick figure with an “X” for each eye.

“You’d be better off without me.” 

The final line had an eye, a heart sign, and the letter “U”.

“And I…well, you know.”

Charlie was completely shell-shocked. “Jesus Christ” he whispered. Everything seemed to click in his head now. It now seemed like Dee’s guilt was not only genuine but the final straw. That she really did want to make things right with him, but saw no scenario where she could do it with her around. And that this led to her making a drastic decision that she may never fully recover from.

Charlie always felt pity for Dee, but never anything like this. 

She was now looking him directly in the eye, no longer afraid to confront her own feelings. “I wrote that specifically for you, because I didn’t think anyone else would really care if I’m dead. But I didn’t want to go without clearing the lines with you. It’s just…I was too chicken-shit to just be open about this with you at the time. But not anymore. Now you know.”

“You really think I’d be better off without you?”

She had to be honest about it. “I mean…maybe.”

As Charlie was still processing all of this, he found himself feeling a strange connection with Dee. Stronger than it was in years, but much different than before. One with the possibility of them not being a part of each other’s lives anymore. Maybe that would be for the best, but he can’t know for sure. He’s not even sure he wants it to be true.

But through all that murkiness, one thing did become crystal clear to him. _She’s trying._

Suddenly a loud crashing sound and a roar came from the TV. Charlie and Dee both flinched, the two of them forgetting there was still a horror movie on. And from the look of things a demon just burst out of the closet, and is dragging the hero into what seems to be some sort of portal to the underworld.

“Oh shit, forgot about that” Dee said as she reached for her remote and turned the TV off. The surprisingly effective jump scare kind of snapped the two of them out of it, and Dee noticed Charlie still hasn’t had a drink yet. “Hey look, if you don’t want the beer I can get you a glass of water.”

“Oh no. It doesn’t matter” Charlie said, cracking open his beer and taking a swig. He was feeling a bit more comfortable about the situation and her beers were tastier than expected. “This is some good shit!”

“Oh?”

“Better than the swill we normally drink.”

Dee suddenly had a devious smile on her face, the first smile he’s seen on her in months. “Well, Frank doesn’t like spending extra on the good stuff. But sometimes…” and she pulled out a credit card from her pocket “he does anyway.”

Charlie was impressed. “Nice! I thought I was the only one that swipes his card.”

“What? You learned that from me. I’ve been doing it since high school.”

“No I’m pretty sure you picked that up from me. I don’t remember you doing that in high school.”

“Dude, you have the worst memory. I swear…”

“Well I did say I have a drinking problem.”

“If that’s the case, maybe I _should_ get you a water” Dee teased, and playfully reached for his beer, but Charlie pulled it away from her.

“Hey, I said I had a drinking problem. I didn’t say I was looking for the solution to it.” And Charlie defiantly took another swig, which made her laugh. It almost felt like they were friends again.

“So, did you swipe Frank’s credit card just to get yourself fancy beers?” he asked.

And Dee’s smile quickly vanished. They were touching on another sensitive subject, and Dee felt compelled to choose her next words carefully.

“Well, no. Actually I’m…I’m going on vacation.”

_There. If that was good enough for Forrest, it’s good enough for Charlie._

“Oh sweet! Where are we going?” said Charlie, excited and not at all taking the hint.

“We aren’t going anywhere, Charlie. It’s just for me.”

“We don’t do solo vacations, Dee. I think the guys should get a say, at least. Frank was leaning towards Maui…”

“Oh goddamn it!” she exclaimed. It now seemed like her chance for a clean break was ruined, and Dee would need to dramatically accelerate her plans tomorrow morning before the guys find out. “I thought you didn’t like leaving Philly.”

“Well you know, I’ve given it some thought and realized every time I leave I end up having a good time. There was that time Dennis and I hung out with Chase Utley and Ryan Howard. Plus, I totally beat Wade Boggs…”

“We both did.”

“Well not according to the commissioner. And there’s that time at the ski lodge when I nailed Tatiana.”

“Ew gross! You’re proud of that?!”

Dee looked disgusted, which embarrassed Charlie. He momentarily forgot she’s not one of the guys, and doesn’t want to hear about his prior encounters- particularly with a hooker. “Well no, not…not proud of it. I mean, it felt pretty good at the time. I uh…” and he quickly realized he was just making this worse, and tried his best to course-correct. “Ok yeah, that was stupid. But it’s kind of like what you were saying, right? About doing something stupid and not having a good reason for it.”

“Don’t compare the two” said Dee with a sternness that surprised Charlie. “That’s different and you know it.”

Charlie felt even more awkward that literally everything he was saying now was just making it worse. “Yeah, I know. I…I wasn’t comparing…it’s just…uh…goddamn it, why did I have to bring that up? You get what I’m trying to say though, right?”

“Yeah you have your _fun_ when you leave Philly” and Charlie could feel the irritation radiating off of Dee without even needing to look at her. He was desperate to change the subject.

“You know, Dennis was talking about replacing you with Jessie. Like, permanently.”

Dee switched back to her default. “Good, I hope he does” she said, finishing her beer.

“What are you going to do without Paddy’s?”

“What I should have done years ago. Just go all in and pursue my dreams, with nothing to distract me. No temp jobs to fall back on. And yeah, maybe I will crash and burn. But I’m fine with that. I mean, look at me! I got nothing left to lose now.”

Under normal circumstances, Charlie would have told her she would indeed crash and burn. However, he had to admit she had a point about having nothing left to lose now. He didn’t even really have a chance to imagine what life might be like for her on her own when Dee asked “What about you? Do you really want to stay at Paddy’s forever?”

“Not really. But what else am I going to do? I’ll just be a janitor somewhere else. At least here I’m with friends.”

“You actually want to be a janitor the rest of your life?” she said, surprised Charlie hadn’t put as much thought into his post-Paddy’s life as she did.

Charlie shrugged. “Well I mean, you know I have other interests. But I’m proud of the work I do.” And he finished off his beer.

It kind of caught her off guard that Charlie doesn’t have similar ambitions as she does, and it made her wonder if they didn’t have Paddy’s and the Gang binding them together that maybe they really would have gone separate ways. She was still thinking about this when Charlie asked “So have you been able to walk yet?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve hit a roadblock and still can’t do it on my own. And Olaf is no help, I’ve had it up to here with her. I guess…” and she sunk to the same crushing resignation she felt in high school “…I guess I’ll just be stuck like this forever.”

But Charlie had enough of seeing Dee in such a pitiful state. Surprising her (and himself), he sprung up and stood in front of her grabbing her hands. “Not tonight, Dee. You’re walking tonight.”

He got her off the chair, but Dee’s legs couldn’t support her body. They wobbled, and Charlie briefly let go of her hands and grabbed onto her waist. This made her nervous, and thinking she was about to fall instinctively placed her hands behind Charlie’s shoulders.

“You’re alright. I got you” Charlie said, trying to calm her down.

“Charlie, no! You could hurt me. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

He smirked. “Well, would you rather Olena do this with you?”

_Fuck no._

“Just follow my steps and you’ll be fine.”

He took a step backward with his left foot. She tried to follow him with her right, but felt her body give when it couldn’t support her weight on the left. Charlie jerked that way to support her when she couldn’t on her own. This made Dee feel like she was on the precipice of disaster, and felt her confidence hanging by a thread.

“Shit! Charlie, I can’t do this! I can’t do this!”

“You’re doing good.”

He now took a step backward with his right foot. This time when she tried to follow him with the left, Charlie was prepared and caught her. It was becoming clear to both of them that she would need to keep supporting her body with his.

“I ought to get myself a cane or something.”

“Lean onto me then. I got you.”

Feeling a bit guilty about it but trusting Charlie, she leaned onto him more. A couple steps in and it felt like she was getting the hang of this. Still, it felt weird to her. Not just because of their history but the height difference as well. It reminded her of that time that Charlie foolishly roped them into a dance marathon, and he was slow dancing with Dee while hanging off of her.

A similar thought seemed to have sprang into his head.

“I got an idea!” he said excitedly. “Wait here, I’ll be right back!”

And completely forgetting that Dee can’t stand on her own, he let go of her and raced to the door causing her to fall.

“Goddamn it, Charlie!”

It was about half an hour later when he returned to her apartment with his boombox, that goofy grin back on his face. She was still sitting on the floor where he left her, and it didn’t really register to him why she was on the floor.

“Hey, thanks for remembering me.”

But the sarcasm was lost on Charlie, as he set the boombox down and hit play. On cue, the intro to a Gwen Stefani song began to play.

“What’s this?”

“It’s that Sweet Escape song you like so much. Personally, I think it blows…”

“Oh bullshit! You used to dance to this in the back office when it came out. I remember that.”

“Oh, yeah…”

Charlie’s attempt to be nonchalant about all this didn’t seem to work. It sometimes catches him off guard how closely she pays attention to him. They paused for a bit before Charlie stretched out his hand and asked “So, you wanna...?”

Dee rolled her eyes. “Can’t really say no, can I? Not when I’m like this.”

“You can _always_ say no.”

“Oh haha” she said sarcastically, but allowed Charlie to lift her off the ground all the same. They resumed the former position, with his hands on her waist and hers behind his shoulders. But this time she was not looking down at her feet, but right into Charlie’s eyes instead.

“Don’t you dare drop me” she whispered.

He smiled, and neither of them breaking eye contact started to move to the music.

🎵If I could escape I would, but first of all let me say  
I must apologize for acting, stinking, treating you this way🎵

Despite the two of them having pretty decent moves, it was not a very graceful dance. There was a lot of tripping and stumbling around. A couple times Dee started to lose her balance, but Charlie was there every time. There were a couple near misses with the furniture, had she not warned him before he backed into it.

🎵If I could escape and recreate a place as my own world  
And I could be your favorite girl🎵

It was every bit as clumsy, awkward and weird as they were. But that was ok, it wasn’t like the bar was at stake this time. In fact for this brief moment in time, their past faded away and there was no future. It was just two friends, taking a brief respite from their miserable lives to embrace the present. In fact if circumstances were different, they might even say they were having fun.

🎵If I could be sweet I know I've been a real bad girl  
I didn't mean for you to get hurt🎵

At some point, they broke the syrup jar on the floor and the floor got all sticky. Also, nearly every bit of popcorn on the floor was smashed to bits. But neither noticed. They were too busy gazing into each other’s eyes to even begin to care.

“You know” she admitted with a soft smile “for an illiterate, glue huffing dork, you can actually be pretty smooth.”

It was a compliment, and Charlie knew her well enough to take it as one. A bit backhanded maybe, but for Dee that was downright nice.

A thought briefly crossed her head. But no. She pushed that deep down inside and felt tremendous shame for even thinking that. Dee couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes anymore, and suddenly wished the song would wrap up so they could stop. _Please just ignore that. Please don’t pick up on that cue._

And for a brief moment, she thinks it worked.

Until she hears “Oh, ok. One.”

Dee looked back at him surprised. It still made her feel guilty for even having these feelings that surely acting on them would be out of the question. Removing a hand from behind him, she placed it softly on his cheek. They stopped moving and she gazed at him, both lovingly and with sadness. Then when she was sure it was ok for him she closed her eyes, moved slowly and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

They broke apart and she looked back at him, and Charlie was swaying on the spot. His breathing was a bit faster than before, and it seemed like he was looking at multiple things at once.

“Charlie?”

“I’m…I’m good.”

But it didn’t look to her like he was good. He felt like he was starting to give, and without warning the two fell to the floor still clinging to each other.

“Jesus Christ! Are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m…I’m fine. You?”

They both let go, but when Charlie looked at her she didn’t look back. Dee was shaking her head, and seemed very upset.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I shouldn’t have…”

“I mean, we were dancing a lot. And the beers…”

“No don’t! Don’t do that!”

“It’s fine. Just lost my breath a bit.”

“It’s not fine! I shouldn’t have done that!”

She rubs her face with her hands and sighed. Finally being able to turn and look at him with regret, she says “Told you I can’t change.”

It didn’t seemed to Dee that Charlie understood what she meant by that. But it didn’t matter. Things were going to change tomorrow morning and this time they were going to change for good. And for the first time since her first appointment with Dr. Granger, she was confident that they would change for the better. Still it did nothing to ease the self-loathing Dee felt, that she once again ruined a sweet moment she could have had with the only man she ever really loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez this was a long chapter. I wasn't intending it to be, but guess I just had a lot of ideas. I've been trying to keep each chapter focused on either Charlie or Dee, however I was too attached to a Charlie and Frank in the sewers scene to not include it as well.
> 
> I felt like it was time for these two to start making some progress, but didn't want it to be 100% smooth as it just didn't feel right on the first try. Although the possibility of Dee leaving the Gang is looming, and it may help accelerate certain dynamics.
> 
> This is the halfway point I think, unless I happen to come up with more ideas. I have a general idea of where I want this to go, but I'm not following any rigid outline.
> 
> Did you notice Charlie's selective memory re: Ruby Taft? I'm surprised it was never called-back on the show. The Gang's selective memory when they're being horrible is one of my favorite running-gags, and since I'm writing from the character's POV thought it would be funny if they were totally aware of their bad actions and just acting dumb.


	6. Chapter 6

The beams of sunlight through the window traveled across the living room of Dee’s apartment, onto the couch and into the face of a sleeping Charlie. He groaned and pulled the covers over his face hoping to get a little more rest, until he realized the cramped sleeping quarters was not the crevice back at his apartment. He jerked the covers back off again, and examining the room realized he spent the night at Dee’s apartment.

Immediately Charlie’s mind started to race as he did inventory on everything that happened last night that led to him still being here, sleeping on her couch with his clothes and shoes still on. It was weird because he swore that the two of them didn’t have that many drinks, yet for whatever reason his memory got bizarrely fuzzy after a certain point. He looked down underneath him, half expecting to see Dee crushed under his weight with bloodshot eyes and a scowl on her face just like the last time he woke up on her couch. But she wasn’t there.

In fact as he looked around her apartment, he couldn’t help but notice it was bizarrely tidy. Sure the floor was trashed with popcorn bits, broken glass and empty beer bottles, but Charlie could have sworn she kept more stuff in her living room. Not that he really cared, it was just a fleeting observation. It wasn’t his job to keep tabs on her shit.

Charlie sat up straight and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, trying to recall everything they talked about last night. Everything from her feelings of guilt to her wanting go on a vacation somewhere to what the two of them might do when they’re no longer working at Paddy’s. He remembered him helping her walk, which turned into a dance, and…

_Oh God, did we really just kiss again?_

How does this keep happening? Neither of them planned on it. He certainly didn’t, he was kind of hoping she would just take the jar of syrup and he could be on his way. Charlie didn’t really want to spend time at her place. But in hindsight, that led to the two of them being open and honest with each other for the first time in years. And that’s got to be a good thing.

Or at least, it would be a good thing if they didn’t ruin it.

He wants to just brush this off as just a little accident, like when he kissed her when the McPoyles held them hostage. _Accidents can happen multiple times right?_

Except he knows that isn’t true, as the two of them have experienced firsthand that little accidents snowball into bigger ones. Ones that neither wants to think about, even if they are impossible to ignore.

And all of the accidents they had over the years- even small ones like last night’s kiss- leave Charlie feeling dirty and guilty. Like he just cheated on the Waitress. It didn’t feel like that with Ruby, as she served a specific purpose for him and he didn’t care about her otherwise. It didn’t feel like that with that hooker or those backpacker girls, that was just his libido (which he does have, even if it’s not very strong).

But with Dee it’s different. Because he can’t explain why these accidents with her keep happening. And that maybe he had the right idea by keeping his distance from her. Charlie realizes that the two of them were so much like his favorite hobby. Get too close and they will stick. Nothing on this earth can stop it.

There’s only one surefire thing that keeps magnets apart. Distance.

Charlie’s phone vibrated and he looked to see who it was. For whatever reason all of his friends have hard to spell names, so his address book just has the first letter for each name. In this case, it was B for Dennis.

You have 10 minutes to get to Paddy’s. Bring Dee with you.

Charlie groaned, frustrated at the fact that Dennis didn’t even try to word his text in a way that made sense to him. He just had to assume Dennis wants him to come to work today, which was what he was planning on doing anyways. He swore he saw Dee’s name in the text, but the last thing Charlie wanted to do was spend more time alone with Dee today. Not even for the ten minute walk from her apartment to Paddy’s. It would be way too awkward.

There’s no way in hell they were going to talk about their kiss. In fact it never happened.

Charlie stuck his phone back into his pocket, and assuming Dee was in her bedroom asleep tried to sneak out the front door without making too much noise. His phone vibrated again, and not wanting to get nagged by Dennis anymore he didn’t bother to look. Although if he did, he would have noticed a more threatening text.

Don’t make me come looking for you.

When Charlie opened the front door to Paddy’s, he saw Mac, Frank, and Jessie all gathered around Dennis by the bar. They saw Charlie walk in by himself and all looked a bit worried. Dennis was staring intensely at the whiskey glass in his hands. Even though he could sense the fear in the room from everyone else, it took him a couple seconds to turn. It looked like he was already half-drunk to Charlie.

“Where the fuck is my sister?”

Charlie shrugged, not getting the gravity of the situation. “I don’t know. What am I, her keeper?”

“I told you to bring her with you!”

“Oh, that’s what you were saying! I didn’t get that…you forgot the emojis.”

There was a slight increase in anger from Dennis and fear from the other three when Charlie responded. It was if they all thought he was being a smart-ass. The truth was this was the first time Dennis’s text made sense to him, and he didn’t get why all of them were being so standoffish.

“I could run over to her place real quick and pick her up, if you want.” Charlie thought being accommodating in this scenario would help diffuse the tension.

“You were already at her place!” Dennis shouted, bursting up from his seat.

“No I wasn’t!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me” said Dennis, getting quieter and more menacing. He was starting to move slowly towards Charlie when Mac extended an arm blocking him.

“Whoa, easy there big guy” Mac said. He gestured towards the glass that Dennis was still holding, as if he was worried Dennis would use it as a weapon. Not speaking and not taking his eyes off of Charlie, he slowly put the glass back on the counter.

“You spent the night with her, didn’t you?” Dennis said.

Now it was Charlie’s turn to get standoffish. In the past, the idea of anything sexual happening between him and Dee never crossed Dennis mind. He stayed over at her place several times and Dennis never once questioned it or seemed to care. But for the past two years Dennis cared intensely, and now he’s under the impression that any time they’re alone it can’t be anything but sexual.

“I didn’t spend the night her! I mean, we had a few drinks. I slept on her couch. I wouldn’t call that ‘spending the night’!”

“Just tell me where my sister is!”

Charlie didn’t immediately respond. He looked confused, and when it registered to Jessie that he was unaware of what’s going on she intervened on his behalf.

“All of us have been trying to get ahold of Dee all morning. We keep getting told that her number is unavailable.”

“And all her social media accounts have been deleted. Not that it mattered, Dee already lost all her nuts” Mac added, doing air quotes when he said ‘nuts’.

“Give her a call and you’ll see what we mean” Frank said.

Charlie pulled out his phone and went straight to D for Dee. His call wouldn’t go through either.

“Weird. Oh you know what? She said something last night about going on vacation.”

“To where?!” Dennis snapped.

“She wouldn’t say.”

The guys all groaned, as it suddenly became obvious to all of them what happened to her. Jessie looked confused as she doesn’t know Dee well enough to get it. Charlie still hadn’t put the pieces together, so it was Mac’s turn to get through to him. And he knew how.

“Charlie, do you remember Forrest Gump?”

“Yeah, we saw that at the dollar movie theater at Washington Avenue on opening weekend. I remember that.”

Mac was trying to make a point, not take a trip down memory lane. “She went where Forrest’s dad went.”

Charlie thought about it for a moment before his eyes widened and his mouth went agape as he recalled the line Forrest’s Mama said. _Vacation is when you go somewhere. And you don’t ever come back._

“She…ran away?”

“Now he gets it!” Dennis exclaims as if he knew all along and didn’t just pick up on it seconds before Charlie. “Frank check your wallet for your credit card.”

“Why would that matter?” Jessie asked.

“Just do it” Dennis said to Frank, ignoring Jessie. Now was not the time to draw attention to the fact that all of them swipe Frank’s credit card whenever they feel like.

Frank pulled out his wallet, dropping a monster condom in the process. He thumbed through business cards, dollar bills, and bits of wolf hair before looking up at Dennis. “It’s not there. Dennis, how’d you…”

“Login to your account and check for recent transactions” Dennis deflected.

Frank opened the internet on his phone and as he was about to pull up his account his phone rang.

“Got to answer this. Yo … No this is Frank … Have you tried calling him? … How the hell am I supposed to know? I don’t even know who Derek is … Well that’s not my problem … If Derek needed to reschedule, take it up Derek! Leave me out of this!”

Frank hung up, and everyone was bewildered by what that was about. Everyone except Dennis. “Was that Olena?”

“Yeah! Dumb Polack thinks I’m in charge of her schedule? I don’t know anyone named Derek!”

“I’ll…I’ll handle it” Dennis said, privy to the fact that Olena didn’t take kindly to Dee intentionally getting her name wrong. He pulled out his phone and started to text her. “Just keep checking your account.”

Frank opened his account and looked at the most recent transactions. “At 5 this morning there was a one way plane ticket to Toledo, immediately followed by a five thousand dollar withdraw at the airport ATM.”

“Toledo is an odd place to vacation” Jessie observed.

“She’s not vacationing there, you stupid bitch!” Mac snapped, creating an uproar amongst Dennis and Frank.

“That was really uncalled for!” Frank shouted.

“Yeah Mac, we’re trying to create an inclusive environment here!” Dennis added. Charlie had to hold in his sniggers. It’s Saturday, and he knows that what’s been happening at the bar on Saturday nights is…as problematic as you can get.

“She’s mouthing off when she doesn’t even understand…”

“It’s ok. She meant no offense. Jessie, go fetch Mac a beer” Dennis said, not forgetting to check her out as she walked back behind the bar before going back to operational planning.

“Frank, call your credit card company and let them know about the fraudulent activity on your account. Dee’s heading to LA where all the beautiful people are, in a futile attempt to pursue her acting dreams. She going to try to go off radar by making cash transactions from here on out. But that’s not going to help her. I’m going to check for early morning direct flights out of Toledo. With any luck, we’ll know her arrival time in LA. I’ll then tip off the police there to intercept her when she lands, where she will then be brought back on the next available flight to Philly _and never leave my sight again!_ ”

Dennis was so wrapped up in the thought of his prized minion returning to him that he scarcely noticed the appalled looks on the faces of the rest of the Gang. He continued to scroll through the flight log of the Toledo airport before he stopped himself. A slight grin spread across his face.

“What?” Charlie asked.

“Oh…oh you clever girl” he whispered to himself.

“What is it?” Mac asked, and now everybody was on pins and needles for what amused Dennis.

“There are no direct flights from Toledo. She’s making another layover.”

“So she’s not heading to LA?” Frank asked.

“No she is. The second layover was meant to throw me off the trail, and it only cost her $200. Now there’s no telling when she arrives there. Dee really is thinking ahead for once. I’m impressed” Dennis was still grinning at how caught off-guard he was at his sister’s cleverness.

“So what do this mean now?”

“Well, she’s going to have a little time to herself in LA before she runs out of cash.”

“I think that’s wonderful!” Jessie chimed in. “Poor girl. She could use a little quality time with herself.”

“Jessie, fetch me a beer” said Dennis, trying to dispel with the notion that this is a good thing before it catches on to the rest of the Gang. “I’m going to try to tap into my network to see if I can at least have some eyes on the ground while she’s screwing around in California. Should also probably set up some security cameras in her apartment, so that it won’t get to this point if it ever happens again.”

The guys continued to look appalled at the extreme abandonment issues on display. “What? It’s for her safety. Look, you guys just focus on getting everything ready for our crowd tonight ok? I’m going to have enough on my plate this afternoon.” And Dennis ignoring Jessie standing next to him with an open beer walked out the front door, already making texts to his ‘network’.

***

The Gang’s group chemistry is ruined without Dee. At least, that was the opinion of Charlie (and weirdly enough, Mac). It’s not that Charlie didn’t like Jessie, she was a pretty friendly person and nice to him. It’s just she is now the center of attention constantly.

Dennis and Frank would ogle her and make lewd comments to her any chance they could. It didn’t seem like either of them were trying in earnest to bang her, so it didn’t make sense to Charlie why they would act like this. Mac would throw the usual insults he’d give to Dee, but this time he wasn’t waiting for the cue from Dennis. Not that he would get it, Dennis would get weirdly on edge anytime Mac tried putting her down.

It’s weird, because Charlie swore there was a time when they were nicer to Dee (though obviously never gross about it). He thinks they should be used to having a woman in the group. With Dee they hardly ever took note that she was a woman unless it was time to berate and insult her, and it was really just Charlie who’d once in a while get distracted and miss the mop bucket when she walked by.

And yeah, Charlie thinks Jessie is pretty too. But he at least likes to think he has some class.

But the Gang is downright gentlemanly compared to the clientele they’ve been attracting. Saturday afternoons may be just awkward, but Saturday nights were just plain disgusting. They pretty much scared away the old barflies, and Charlie ended up missing them- at least they kept to themselves. These guys looked like something the cat dragged in, and they had lecherous intent in their eyes and grins.

They seemed to think any part of her was free to grab anytime. Now Dennis of all people would know this constitutes hostile work environment, but the new business model of Paddy’s revolves around exploiting Jessie’s attractiveness to sketchy people. And Jessie did consent to this and did her best to embrace it, though Charlie could hardly imagine this was fun for her.

While some managed to slip through the cracks, Mac was pretty good about making sure the grabbers coughed up $5 or $10 apiece. This would often lead to a bidding war in which Frank would participate to jack up the price. Dennis would have to remember to stop Frank though as he would offer significantly more and the whole point was to get the sleaze balls to part with _their_ cash.

And part with their cash they did. Paddy’s Pub was one step away from being Paddy’s Brothel, which was an idea that Frank started to float around. Dennis would boast that he could hardly remember a time they made more money on a scheme without having to work hard, which annoyed Mac even more. The most work Dennis did would be during the busiest part of the night “accidently” bump into Jessie while she’s holding beers causing her to spill them on her shirt while the crowd enticed her to take it off (she would).

Mac on the other hand was the busiest he’s ever been. Swatting away horny guys inside the bar was bad enough, every night when it was time to close there would always be one or two guys outside waiting for Jessie. Mac would begrudgingly escort her to safety, which led to more whining to Dennis about how Dennis is putting him in danger.

But tonight, it was just too much for Charlie. It took every ounce of willpower to get through these Saturday nights, but Dee seemingly cutting him out of her life made it too much. He started gathering the empty bottles and putting them in cases, and all the guys knew Charlie well enough to not say a word to him much less make him clean up another mess. Once he had three cases full (the most he could carry) he went straight upstairs with them.

The way to the bad room was crawling through the vents, which means that Charlie could only move one case at a time. He would have to crawl on his belly while pushing the case ahead of him until he got there before turning around and crawling for the next one. It would take him a long time to do all three, but Charlie knew it would be worth it. He had a lot on his mind now and needed to vent.

It’s a very simple process: one bad thought per bottle. It wasn’t about wanton destruction, he was plenty good at that. It was about taking a thing that’s bothering you, releasing it from you, and watching it get destroyed.

 _Mac, you have got to get a grip. Just stand up to Dennis. I promise you he’ll respect you if you did. That’s one of the things you wanted from him, right?_ He threw a bottle at the wall and watched it shatter.

 _Who the fuck are you kidding, Dennis? You don’t even really want her, you’re just forcing yourself. You’re too old for that. Nobody is going to judge you, we didn’t judge Mac._ He threw another bottle at the wall.

 _Take better care of yourself, Frank. I know you want to get weird with it in your last years, but I’m running out of people who care about me. Can’t lose you too._ He threw another bottle.

Charlie knew that Frank’s time was coming soon, and the thought of that was overwhelming. Was there really going to be no one in his corner? Would he be all alone? Not even willing to explore that scenario, he grabbed another bottle and hurled it at the wall.

It’s when he gets to Dee that he feels like grabbing the first case and chucking the entire thing at the wall. And it’s weird because she used to be his bottle smashing buddy, but recently he’s been smashing bottles because of her.

 _Dee, why didn’t you tell me? I thought we were starting to trust each other again. Do you think I wouldn’t have understood? Or do you just not trust me?_ He flung that bottle at the wall.

It wasn’t nearly enough. She was still on his mind. He was just going to have to keep smashing bottles and let the bad thoughts out one at a time.

_Who do you think you are, thinking you can’t trust me? If anything, I’m the one that shouldn’t trust you._

It wasn’t fair to him. After what she put him through, after she was so desperate to regain his trust, to bail on him when he was starting to be comfortable around her again.

_You don’t want me to be a part of your life? Fine. Didn’t need you around anymore anyways._

Charlie remembered the day they hired Dee right after having been institutionalized. Dennis pulled him aside and warned him that she was a nutcase. He said he shouldn’t let her get close to him.

_I should have listened to Dennis. I shouldn’t have let you get so close._

All he ever really wanted was a happy domestic life with the Waitress. And he’s confident he would have gotten it, had Dee not been there. She just kept getting in the way.

_You were right. I am better off without you!_

And yet even with her gone, she is still living rent-free in his head.

_I think about you too much._

“Goddamn bitch.”

_You don’t deserve it._

“GODDAMN BITCH!”

“Oh, sorry.”

Charlie whipped around to see what that was, still breathing heavy after having made a small mountain of broken glass on the opposite side of the room. He briefly saw Jessie’s face before she hid from view.

“That wasn’t directed at you” Charlie assured her, and she popped back into view.

“I saw you take that last case up the vents, then I heard smashing sounds and went to investigate” she explained. “Had a bad day?”

“Not as bad as yours” he admitted. It’s true, he’d rather have anger pent up inside him and be able to release it than be groped all night. “Is it closing time already? Shouldn’t Mac be helping you out of here?”

She shook her head. “There were three guys outside tonight and one was already holding a knife, so Mac just told me to stay in the bunker. Then he locked up and ran for it.”

 _Jesus Christ, this is getting ridiculous._ Well, if the two of them were going to be locked inside Paddy’s for the night she might as well join him. Charlie waved her over to the first case of bottles. “Come here, take one of these.”

Jessie crawled out of the vent and stood by the bottles looking perplexed. “What is it you want me to do?”

“Grab a bottle and throw it at that wall.”

“Ok” she grabbed one and still a little confused about it threw it at the wall. It wasn’t a hard throw and only broke in five pieces. Charlie wasn’t impressed.

“Oh come on, that wasn’t nearly good enough!”

“Sorry.”

“Just imagine you’re throwing it at Dennis.”

That seemed to light a fire in her. The next one she threw shattered into tiny little pieces.

“Yeah! And Mac! And Frank!” She flung two more bottles. “And all those dirt bag customers!”

There were nine more bottles in the case and she grabbed and chucked as fast and as hard as possible. After the last bottle shattered, she shouted “Fuck you!” at the wall before covering her mouth and looking nervous.

“Oops, didn’t mean to curse. It’s just…that felt really good.”

It seemed to Charlie that Jessie and Dee had hardly anything in common. In fact, it was almost annoying how bad a fit she was. If someone got grabby with Dee she would literally throw bottles at him and escalate from there. Hell if she was here tonight, she’d be throwing bottles at those guys from across the bar anyways.

_I’d pay to see that._

Charlie tossed the empty box aside and scooted the second one towards them. He grabs two bottles and hands one to her, and breaking bottle therapy protocol asks “You must really hate it here, don’t you?”

Jessie doesn’t answer, but she didn’t need to. He already knew what the answer was.

“You miss Dee, don’t you?” she asks.

Charlie doesn’t answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally happy with how I wrote Dennis this chapter. He's giving off serious Gang Broke Dee vibes here. We see how good a schemer he is with knowing Dee's plan, and him being impressed that she knew he'd be onto her and managed to stay one step ahead.
> 
> Dee intentionally getting Olena's name wrong has the same energy as Frank using the wrong ethnic slur for her (she's Ukrainian, remember?) Bigotry/classism is a hallmark of the Reynolds family.
> 
> Like Dennis's replacement in The Gang Makes Paddy's Great Again, Dee's replacement is someone who is a net benefit for the Gang but clashes with their chemistry. And I went a different angle with Jessie and used her to highlight the ugly side of these characters. I don't like Sunny fics that woobify the Gang to the point they're unrecognizable to canon. They can be a bit sweeter than normal (or why bother writing fic?) but they're still scumbags, all of them.
> 
> Jessie may seem like a filler character now, but I love setups that have a good payoff...


	7. Chapter 7

There wasn’t enough alcohol in her apartment to get the two of them drunk. In fact Dee wasn’t entirely sure where Charlie’s limit was, and that’s a problem for her. Now that the cat’s out of the bag that she intends to leave Philadelphia, she can’t risk Charlie going home tonight and telling Frank what’s up. She’s going to need access to Frank’s money and can’t risk him cutting her off.

Dee was going to have to resort to more drastic measures with Charlie.

Excusing herself to go pee, Dee rolled herself to her bathroom and pulled out the Rohypnol from the medicine cabinet. She doesn’t use roofies nearly as often as Dennis, but would be lying if she said she never used them. However it definitely would be the first time that she’s drugged a guy to knock him out, so she could sneak out of her own apartment. She wants to pat herself on the back for her cleverness.

Dee sneaks a tablet in her pocket and puts the rest back, though she has no intention of not bringing them with her considering how useful they can be. She rolls over to the toilet and flushes it in case Charlie could listen through the wall, and was just about to head back to him when the bullet hole in the wall caught her eye.

She managed to pay somebody to clean the blood from her bathroom (Charlie refused to do it), but the hole in the wall remained as permanent a scar as the one that will forever be in the back of her head. It made her think about how that one fateful decision caused a chain reaction of events that led to this moment. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she was just supposed to die and that be the end of it. But things rarely go the way you think they will.

Or maybe things were always supposed to play out this way.

If you asked Dee Reynolds if there is a God, she’ll tell you there isn’t one. But so much of that is based on her brother being so adamant that God doesn’t exist, and who is she to fight him on this? So she says no but…she’s not solid on it. Because there definitely are things she’s experienced in her life that she can’t explain.

The problem is she has no one to talk to about it. Can’t talk to Dennis about it obviously. Can’t talk to Frank about it because he never cared about her enough to have deep conversations about these things. Can’t talk to Mac about it because he’s an insufferable Bible thumper and she just wanted some clarity, not to be converted. She can’t even talk to Charlie about it because he believes in ghouls and goblins and weird shit, and while the two of them have a lot in common this is definitely not one of them.

So she suffers with the crippling frustration of being the only one who can’t make sense of the world and possibly never will. And maybe there is some reason that she somehow survived that gunshot and she can’t go until she figures it out. Even if that means grasping at straws trying to find the answer. And it makes her feel a bit less guilty about drugging Charlie and abandoning him if it would help her get there.

Charlie was quick to call Dee out when she rolled out of the bathroom. “You didn’t wash your hands.”

“So? You don’t wash your hands.”

“Yeah I know. It’s just…I heard Frank mention the other day about some virus that’s been spreading around.”

Dee scoffed. “Frank has a history of scaring people to make a quick buck. Trust me, two weeks from now no one will even be talking about viruses.”

Charlie nodded and got off the sofa still clutching his beer. “Yeah, you’re right. Got to piss.”

“And you’re going to do that while drinking?” Dee asked, gesturing to his beer.

He gawked at it, clearly inebriated and confused as if taking your drinks to the bathroom was a normal thing people do. “Good point. Don’t know what I was thinking.” And he set it down and stumbled into her bathroom.

Not waiting a second after he shut the door behind him, Dee pulled the roofie out of her pocket in slipped it in his beer bottle. She covered the opening with her thumb and gave it a vigorous shake. It seemed to her that even though Charlie was now at a point where he won’t mind having a few drinks with her, he still at least subconsciously wanted to take the half-full bottle with him.

_And you’re right not to trust me. That’s why I’m doing this._

He was in the bathroom for an unusually long time, and Dee wondered if he too noticed the bullet hole in the wall. Charlie admitted earlier in the evening that the two of them made a really good team, and she’d like to think he was also thinking how they got to this point and why the two of them had to be stuck on the worst timeline imaginable.

Eventually he stumbled back out of the bathroom and grinned while wiggling his fingers at her. “I washed my hands.”

“Awesome.”

He recklessly grabbed his beer bottle and downed the remainder. Flinging it carelessly aside, he stared into space for a bit. Dee couldn’t tell if the roofie was working or if he was thinking about something to say, but after a couple of minutes she got her answer.

“Hey um… is it ok if I get something off my chest?”

“As long as it’s not something we’re both going to regret.”

Charlie fiddled with his fingers for a second before turning to face her, looking both completely serious and slightly woozy. “I don’t really love the Waitress.”

“Like that!” Dee exclaimed, unable to think of a worse thing he could tell her in this situation.

“I don’t!” Charlie said more forcefully, though clearly becoming more inebriated each second. “She’s a bitch and she treats me like shit.”

Dee wasn’t about to let him get away with saying things he wouldn’t dare say sober, not when she’s about to leave him forever. “Of course you love her. You spent half your life chasing her.”

“Yeah and what a waste that was…you said yourself I’m better off without her.”

It’s true. She did tell him that.

“And like…if I’m being… _completely_ honest…”

She couldn’t even look at him, unable to trust herself. _Don’t do it. Don’t do it. Don’t do it._

“I…”

And he stood there for a second, staring at her with his mouth agape. Whatever he was going to completely honest about though he never said, and Dee couldn’t have been more thankful.

“…I got to lie down. Because…I’m too d-drunk to take myself home.”

She let out a sigh of frustration and relief. This conversation was over, and still not trusting herself to look at him gestured to her couch and said “The couch is right there” before rolling to her room.

It wasn’t long through before she heard Charlie shout from the living room “What? No blankets?” Groaning and fuming a bit, she grabbed a blanket from her room and rolled back into the living room. “Here” she said roughly, chucking it at him before starting to roll away.

“Hey Dee?”

“What?!” she snapped, only bothering to turn her head at him.

“Can you tuck me in?”

“Fuck you!”

“Oh, ok” he said, a bit taken aback but too hammered to fight back. “The attitude…wasn’t necessary.”

Dee turned back to the door and started to roll towards it before stopping. Realizing she didn’t want the last thing she’d ever tell Charlie to be an insult, she turned her head back to face him. However Charlie was already asleep. It didn’t take long for him to bundle himself up in the blanket, with only his face visible and a soft smile on it.

It was adorable. She hated it.

“Goodnight Charlie” she whispered before returning to her room.

Nobody enjoys packing. Worse still if you are doing it with while a bit tipsy and operating on no sleep. Dee felt pretty fortunate that she already had a checklist saved on her phone, so she already knew what items to bring without wasting time thinking about what she forgot. Though she wasn’t exactly planning on leaving today, she has her system set up so she can make a quick break.

Since she has been banned from Uber, Dee will have to hail a taxi (no way is she riding a filthy bus). The taxi will take her to the Philadelphia International Airport. She will then use Frank’s credit card to purchase a one-way ticket to Toledo, followed by withdrawing $5,000 from the card before Frank (or rather, Dennis) can cut her off. Figuring that Dennis would be on to her even if she made the layover to Toledo she decides to make a second layover in Milwaukee and then go straight to Los Angeles, paying for both flights with cash.

Of course, the easy part is outthinking Dennis. She knows her brother well enough to predict his moves, and how she intends to counter them. The hard part is cutting off all contact with the Gang.

Physically it was easy. All of her social media accounts have been inactive since that fateful day with Frank’s gun, so deleting them was no problem. All she had to do now is block every number on her phone and delete the contacts from her address book so she won’t be tempted to stay in touch. Mentally it was a bit more challenging than that.

Should she keep Frank’s number just in case disaster strikes so he can bail her out? Should she keep Dr. Gainer’s number since she spent so much time with her and so she can confidentially give her updates on how she’s doing? Should she keep Charlie’s number so if the distance helps both of them they can eventually be friends from afar?

_No. They all have to go. Otherwise, it’s not a clean break._

Once they were all gone, Dee put her heaving day bag on her lap and rolled out to the living room. It was still several hours before the sun rose and Charlie was still sound asleep on her couch. Dee was too focused on keeping the bag on her lap and rolling ahead to look at him. Not that she dared to.

If she did, who knows? She might throw the bag aside, fling herself off the wheelchair and wrap her arms around him. She feel silly ever wanting to leave him and wouldn’t want to let go. Then maybe the two of them could get one of those Time-Turners from the Harry Potter series and crank it back however long they need to. To when he offered to run away with her on Peter Nincompoop.

But maybe that was too late, maybe they had to go back to high school when she can get away from Barbara and he can get away from Jack.

But maybe that won’t work. Maybe there never was a time they could’ve been together.

She doesn’t entertain the thought for too long. She just pushes ahead.

***

For Dee, traveling to Los Angeles in a wheelchair had its pros and cons. For one the taxi driver that came to pick her up was willing to carry her bag down the steps and into the car but was unwilling to carry her down them. Instead he chose to roll her down the steps the exact same way that Dennis did, leaving her back searing in the process.

On the other hand being in a wheelchair means boarding the plane first, and Dee absolutely loved that. People for once genuinely felt sorry for her, and she got to stick a middle finger at them and call them white stains. What did it matter? She gets to board first regardless. She also got to be a raging asshole to the flight attendants and watch them trip over themselves to cater to her whims. It’s what she always imagined being a celebrity would be like, and it was almost enough to make her want to stay in the wheelchair forever.

But truthfully she hated it. The emotional scars from the back brace in high school only ever scabbed over and it tore her apart knowing that there would be more to come from this. And it was when she was waiting for her flight in Milwaukee and touring the gift shops that she became more determined than ever to eventually walk again. And while Dee was thinking about the logistics of getting a cheap motel nearby the Hollywood backlots, she also made a mental note to go to a pawn shop and purchase a cane.

It would be an understatement to call the motel she chose to stay in “filthy.” It was one of those places where you didn’t need a black light to see the stains on the floors and bed, and the paint was peeling off from the walls. The walls themselves were paper thin so you could hear screams from the room over, and it was a toss-up to Dee whether it was rough sex or someone getting stabbed. It smelled like feet and old people. It was almost as nasty as _Charlie’s apartment._

But that didn’t matter as she wasn’t going to spend months cooped up in this room. She just needed a cheap place to sleep. In fact the instant she dropped off her luggage Dee was already hailing a taxi to take her to the pawn shop.

Once there Dee asked the store owner if they had any canes. He directed her to the back wall where there was a small assortment of them. Some were just old man walkers while others were walking sticks, but Dee wasn’t interested in those. She wanted something that could make her feel powerful and sexy while walking around with one. In particular the slick black ones with unique handles appealed to her and she reached for one with a cobra handle.

It seemed like it might be a perfect fit for her until she tried to take the handle off. This upset the owner and he snatched it away from her.

“What the hell? I need to see the sword before I buy it!”

“We don’t sell cane swords here!” he said loudly as if the walls were listening to them. “They’re illegal in the state of California!”

And then he winked at her. She got his drift.

“Oh, ok. Well before I buy your _totally ordinary cane_ ” she winked back “I’ll need to see how well I walk with it.”

The owner nodded and handed the cane back. Dee held it in her hand and hesitated for a moment, realizing that everything hinged on this. The relief that will come from being able to move freely again, the trajectory of her acting career, the likelihood she avoids another downward spiral, everything. In hindsight, it was downright reckless to bolt to California to launch her acting career before she fully recovered. Or even before she knew she could recover. She’s putting a lot of faith into this moment in a skeezy pawn shop in LA.

A part of her wished she just did this with Charlie. It seemed like he still cared about her enough, and maybe she could have thought of a way to keep the secret of her running away between them. But no, there was no chance of that happening. He couldn’t even keep their smoke breaks private. And besides, doing it this way will reaffirm in her mind that she didn’t need him and can truly be independent.

She plants the cane onto the shop floor and with both hands grabbing the cobra head pushed herself off the chair. It took a few seconds to fully stand upright, but she was impressed at how sturdy the cane felt. Easy part done.

Now for the hard part, choosing which leg to go with first. When she was dancing with Charlie she felt more confident with her left leg, but she doesn’t know how much of that was because he was leading her. Fortunately she’s left handed, so if her right leg really is the weak one having the cane on her stronger side would make it easier to move.

Taking the chance, Dee planted the cane forward. She wobbled a bit for the brief instant her body was unsupported, but managed to regain her balance again and move her right leg forward followed by the left. Taking a minute to exhale and feel relieved that this went without a hitch, she repeated this process again and was again successful.

1, 2, 3, rest. 1, 2, 3, rest. 1, 2, 3, rest. Each time she did it her confidence grew, and the rest period decreased. In a matter of minutes Dee found herself walking at a slow methodical pace with her cane. She was just doing laps around the pawn shop with the owner watching her the entire time, but Dee couldn’t remember a time she felt this free. A big smile spread across her face as if she couldn’t believe that it would go this well, and she started to laugh.

“Ah yeah! Sweet Dee’s back, bitches!”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out $200 for the cane. When she handed it to the owner, she gestured at the wheelchair and said “You can keep that piece of shit, too. Or throw it away. I don’t care, I’m not going to need it anymore.”

***

The next week her schedule was booked with auditions, the vast majority of them Dee didn’t even read closely. If it was a female role, she was in. Hell if she accidentally applied for a male role, she has enough costumes to make that work. Dee took no consideration for the age of the roles either, well aware that she’s too old to play many of them. That’s why it helps that for the past few years she’s had a fake driver’s license so she can pose as a younger woman.

_Why not? I’m an actress after all._

The taxi ride to Dee’s first audition on Monday morning was slightly more enjoyable than the previous ones. For some reason, all of her drivers have been finding her annoying and were rude to her. However the driver this time didn’t have to deal with the wheelchair and initial barrage of insults, so he was a bit nicer…at first.

She was starting to walk around much better after a day of practice with the cane. In fact when she arrived at the backlot she was carrying herself with the kind of swagger she hasn’t felt in years, and the cobra cane definitely turned some heads. It made her feel important, like she was already an A-lister and this audition was just a formality.

“Ayooo! Which one of you ding-dongs is the casting director?” she asked as she walked onto the set of a spy thriller called Moscow’s Most Wanted (the first role she was auditioning for). A dozen people were already gathered and looked confused at her. An older man raised his hand.

“Hi. Hello. Can we help you?” the man asked, clearly taken aback as to why Dee was here.

“Yeah, I’m here for the audition. Dee Reynolds, but you already knew that.”

The casting director looked at the guy next to him and mouthed ‘what?’ His aide whispered something in his ear, and rifled through the papers he was holding until he found the one he was looking for and gave it to the casting director. After the casting director stared at it for a few seconds, he said to Dee “Ok, there must’ve been a mistake. This role was for women between the ages of 23 and 32.”

“Well you’re in luck. I’m 23. No, seriously I am!” she said in response to his incredulous reaction. “I’ll prove it to you!”

Dee pulled out her fake ID and handed it to him. The casting director scoffed at it, clearly able to tell it was fake before handing it back to her. “Born in ’97, huh? Well be that as it may, you do realize you’re auditioning for an action movie right?”

“Duh! I was made for this.”

“What I mean is this is a physically demanding role. You’ll need to be able to move freely, without the use of that.” And he pointed at her cane.

Dee felt her confidence waver, but did her best to try and hide it. “Isn’t that what stunt doubles are for?”

“We’re doing quick cuts for the fight scenes, so a stunt double can be used if you don’t feel like learning Krav Maga. However, you’ll at least need to be comfortable running and jumping.”

Now she was really starting to worry. Her physical therapy has been a several month process, and she only just now got to the point where she could kind of walk around freely. Could she really be ready to be running and jumping in a few days? And since when did movies require actresses to be running and jumping? It just didn’t make sense to her.

“W-w-why would I be running and jumping? The techno-dorks add that in during post. All you need from me is my performance and my pretty face.”

“Ok, but there are 5,000 women auditioning for this role and they all have pretty faces” he said, and Dee swore he put the tiniest emphasis on pretty. “And the vast majority will be easier to work with since they’re fine with the physicality of this role.”

“Fine, but what separates me from them is experience. I’ve been acting since high school” she said trying to sound impressive as her self-esteem was completely unraveling.

“So as long as they have?”

“Well no. I’ve…” and then she remembered the fake ID. “Oh yeah. I guess you’re right.”

The casting director took another look at her resume, and Dee felt like he already made up his mind about her. He was picking her apart. She felt _judged_. The cane she was holding was starting to get sweaty in her hand, and she was becoming increasingly desperate to find a way to stand out and somehow salvage this audition.

“You said on your application that your highest profile role was a princess who lives in a coffee shop?”

She eagerly perked up at that. “Oh yeah! That’s another thing I bring to the table. I can sing better than those bitches. Here let me show you!”

“I don’t need to hear…”

🎵 “Tiny boy. Little boy. Baby boy I need you…” 🎵

“Stop! There’s no singing in this part! Why would there be? It’s a spy thriller.”

“But you didn’t let me finish!” Dee complained. Even though she detests the lyrics, in this moment she’d take it. It was something…anything that could get her to stand out. Anything that might make him think she’s good enough.

But the casting director indicated by putting her resume in the stack that the audition is over. “I’ve heard all I need to hear. We’ll give you a call if we have an opening."

It’s not lost on Dee that a little rejection is necessary to become an actress, but 20 years of it and it crushes her soul more and more each time. It’s a constant reminder that she’s not good enough…never good enough.

But Dee feels lucky that there is one way to prove she is good enough. Once she’s in the taxi back to her hotel room Dee already had Tinder open, swiping right on every guy in the feeble hopes that this will give her a boost and get her back on track for tomorrow.

***

Dee was back in her shitty hotel room, in bed with some douchebag named Brock. Despite kind of being able to walk better, she still couldn’t bang like she used to. It was straight up embarrassing trying to mount him but then have to stop as she felt searing pain from her lower back. She grabbed at it and winced. Brock, annoyed that he wasn’t getting anywhere with her finally flipped Dee on her back. Although Dee much prefers being the top, in this instance she’ll just have to take what she can get.

“Oh my god! That was the best dick I had in months!” she said through heavy breaths shortly after he came and rolled off her.

This wasn’t a lie. It was the only dick she had in months. However, Dee was doing her best to be complimentary and seem agreeable to him. Maybe then he’d want to be with her.

“Mmm” Brock grunted.

Dee reached for the top drawer on the bedside dresser and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Wanna smoke?”

Brock looked appalled at the suggestion. “What? No! That’s the worst thing you can do for your body, getting an addiction to those.”

She quickly put the pack back into the drawer and tried her best to play it off. “Oh, yeah. Of course! I’m really not addicted. I just sometimes like to smoke after sex. Don’t know how that got started.”

This was a lie. She knows exactly how that got started. It’s just…she’s trying real hard not to think about _him_ anymore.

“So, what do you like to do for fun?” Dee asked.

“Eat. Sleep. Lift. All day, every day.”

This of course made sense as Brock was a muscly meathead. “Well, two out of three ain’t bad.” She smiled at her own joke, thinking it was funny. He didn’t. “But what do you like to do for _fun?_ ”

“I just told you.”

“I meant besides that.” She was desperate to find something they’d enjoy together. “Why don’t we go down to open mic night at the Laugh Factory?”

“I can’t think of a bigger waste of time.”

“Right? Me neither. All those losers thinking they’re funny.” Dee kept up the façade of agreeableness despite crumbling internally. Since he seems to think it’s stupid she tried leaning into that. “Ooh, you know what we should do? We should go down there and heckle them all, you know? Turn the whole crowd against them…” But Brock held up a hand to silence her. He looked peeved.

“Look, I know what you’re trying to do. But I’m not looking for companionship, I already have a wife. Why don’t we just keep things…sexual between us?”

 _Gross, did he really just say that?_ But she tried to move past that. He’s hot. She can still salvage this. “Right. Yeah. Sexual. Yeah I can do that.” Now the desperation was in full effect. “I was just…looking for the same thing myself! Isn’t it funny, how we both want the same thing from…” But Brock held up a hand again.

“Dee, don’t talk so much. It ruins it for me.”

 _Ugh, why am I getting a Dennis vibe from this guy?_ And then it hit her. _Really, Dennis? This is the way you’re going to spy on me? You just can’t let me have anything can you? And this douche is part of your network? What network is this, the League of Extraordinary Psychopaths?_

“Ok, ready for round two.”

It was a statement not a question. Brock was already climbing up to mount her without even really asking if it was okay. 

_Whatever._

To his credit Brock is a good lay. He can probably get her off at least two more times. Meanwhile all she has to do is lay on her back and fantasize about getting him back for this.

But this never materialized. Because the sting of getting used by another guy, the knowledge that her brother knows where she is and is spying on her, was nothing compared to what was about to happen next.

***

California just locked down.

She wasn’t even here for a week, and already the success of her acting career was in dire straits. It was bad enough that the next two auditions were as well received as the first one, but every audition thereafter was postponed. She was told by one of the casting directors that the lockdown should only last 15 days and they should be able to easily reschedule.

But that was beside the point. What frustrated Dee the most was the timing of it all. This was the moment she was working up to for 20 years. She had some cash on hand, this was the freest she’s been all her life, she’s having a harder time concealing her age, and with the looming threat of Dennis roping her back to Philly it will likely be her best chance. Her only chance.

_And now all of it ends because some people are catching the flu?_

It didn’t seem fair to her. So she has to stay in this fleabag motel and watch the $4,000 of remaining cash dwindle as fast as her dreams. It won’t all be gone by then, but there won’t be a lot left either. And then the pressure will mount. The margin of error will be miniscule. How well could she perform then, when a single audition could determine whether or not she’s living on the streets?

Dee got this place because it was dirt cheap, so that her window for successfully landing a role could be larger. It never once occurred to her she could be stuck here all day for two weeks, constantly breathing in that rank odor and not getting any sleep because of what she assumes is extreme crazy sex next door. This room just turned into a torture chamber.

She can’t even hook up with anyone because no guys were willing to break the quarantine even if it meant getting laid. Well no one but Brock was willing, but Dee rejected him. She didn’t want Dennis to continue to spy on her, but knew it was too late. And she knew it was too late because she was getting dozens of calls from a mysterious number she didn’t recognize.

It made her realize she didn't think of every potential loophole, and regret not changing her number was well. But what if that was pointless? Was she really supposed to live the rest of her life as one of her characters, change phone numbers every week and never hook up with anyone in case one of those guys was part of Dennis's 'network'? After a couple days of this, Dee realized there was no escaping her brother and chose to answer the phone.

“What?”

“Surprise bitch!” said Dennis on the other end.

“I knew it was you!”

“But I changed my number.” The tone in Dennis’s voice suggested he wanted her to be surprised that he found her, and was a bit disappointed that she wasn’t.

“So? Who else would call me repeatedly like this?”

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter. Are you enjoying your _vacation?_ ”

“I _was_. And it’s not a vacation. I’m doing what I want for once.”

“So you call being cooped up all day in room 109 of the Stumble Inn you doing what you want?” Dennis stopped as the screaming from the other room got so loud even he could hear it. "What’s that noise? Are you banging while you’re on the phone?”

“No, that’s next door.” Dee put the phone down, banged on the wall with her fist and shouted “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Whatever was going on over there stopped, and she walked back to the phone and effortlessly switched back to a casual tone. “So how are things at Paddy’s?”

Dennis scoffed. “You don’t care.”

“Of course not. Just curious.” And Dee was being honest here. They’re wouldn’t be any point to doing this is she still had an emotional attachment back there. But she’s allowed to be a little curious.

“Why should I tell you? You sent a very clear message you don’t want _any of us_ to be a part of your life. And you are going to have to deal with the repercussions of your actions when you come back to Philly.”

Dennis was skilled about using just the right words to needle her. Putting emphasis on any of us meant he was referring to Charlie. He was trying to signal to Dee the hurt Charlie was feeling by cutting ties with him without warning. And ‘deal with the repercussions’ basically meant that she would be destined to cross paths with him again and once again have explaining to do.

Unless she managed to stay here. Which is why she clarified: “ _If_ I come back.”

“No Dee, _when_. If I wanted, I could tip the cops off about the money you stole from Frank and have them send you back to Philly right now. But I’m not going to do that because you’ll just resent me for it and try this again. I’m going to make this sting. You’re going to bomb and gag and fail the next couple of weeks. Then you’ll finally throw your dreams in the trash where they belong, and you’ll choose to go back to Philly. I’m going to take a more active role in your life from now on, and you’ll be happy I did. Your first act was shit and you’re off to a bad start with the second, but there’s no reason I can’t salvage it.”

Dennis was winning this round big time. Paddy’s really did feel like a black hole and Dennis was at the center of it. Dee thought she was gathering escape velocity but nothing ever does. This was just the furthest she ever went before inevitably being sucked back in. And the thought of Dennis somehow taking a ‘more active role’ in her life was terrifying. He would watch her constantly, make decisions for her, assign a husband for her that she hated. She would basically be Dennis’s slave.

Dee was boiling over with frustration but couldn’t muster up anything in retaliation. All she could do was coldly whisper “Fuck you” before hanging up the phone. She wasn’t about to give Dennis the satisfaction of crawling back to him with her tail between her legs.

At least she felt that way until 2 weeks later when the lockdown got extended. And just like that, it seemed the door to her acting career just slammed shut.

Dee did the math in her head and figured out when the lockdown finally gets lifted in the summer she’ll be left with $17. Enough to feed herself for a few days, but not enough to stay even one more day at the Stumble Inn. Obviously not enough to buy a ticket back to Philly on her own, so that would be something that Dennis (or rather, Frank) would organize.

The alternative would be to hack it on the streets. Show up to auditions grimy and smelly. Unable to even blend in as another pretty face. Eating what she found in dumpsters. Using her cane sword to fight off crackheads and rapists. The only upside to this is she’d truly be off the radar, and even Dennis’s ‘network’ wouldn’t be able to locate her. But other than that, she’d basically be a subhuman. She’d be like _Cricket._

It’s the third time in less than a year that Dee has been thrusted into making a life altering decision, but this time she's starting to question her own judgment. The first one by any account was the most disastrous choice she ever made. The second one seemed logical at the time and she had weeks to think things through and plan it out, but it’s starting to look like another pathetic failure as well.

It’s time to try something she hasn’t done in many years. Turn it to the Big Man Upstairs.

For Dee it’s been so long since she prayed that she forgot how to do it. Sure Mac offered to pray with her several times, but Dee turned him down every time. Mac said he would still pray for her because she desperately needs salvation. Dee found it weird that even Mac thought her soul was worth saving.

_Is it though?_

She sometimes felt like she was in Hell, and that God was toying with her. Like a kid holding a magnifying glass on an ant. It just seemed unlikely that all this bad shit keeps happening to her accidently. It just doesn’t happen to normal people.

But Dee realizes if she’s going to commit to giving this praying thing a shot, she also has to entertain the notion that maybe…just maybe…she’s a bad person. And the praying might not turn that around or change where she’s headed, if such an afterlife exists. But her hope is some answer will present itself to her, so she closes her eyes and starts:

_Ok so um…it’s been several years since the last time I did this, so I might be a little rusty._

_Ugh, this is so weird. How does Mac do this every day? How does he pray for _me?__

_I guess I’m going to Hell, huh? Yup, my goose is probably cooked. Don’t think I can do enough to reverse it._

_You know, I kind of gave you a lay-up a couple months back. When I tried to take my life. By all accounts it should have worked. I went with the most effective method possible._

_But you didn’t let that happen. I don’t understand that. If I’m doomed, why am I still here?_

_A part of me feels like maybe I’m supposed to stay. Like I need to do something here before I move on. But I can’t for the life of me figure out what it is._

_My life has kind of been a shit sandwich…oops, I don’t think you’re supposed to curse when praying. It hasn’t been great is what I meant._

_I just don’t see any way I can turn it around, and I really don’t want to be stuck here and suffer some more. But if I’m stuck here and can’t leave, I just want to know what it’s like._

_I feel almost silly asking this of you, but I got to know what it’s like to be happy and carefree. To just have a perfect day. To know what the other side of life feels like, rather than misery and pain._

_If I just had a taste of that just once, it’s the best I can hope for. Then I could actually die happy. You wouldn’t need to drag me to Hell, I’d just walk beside you. Or…at least as well as I can walk._

She opened her eyes. Nothing came to her. No clarity, no guidance, nothing. She shook her head and felt silly for thinking it would make a difference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not gonna lie, when I heard the news about the 4 season renewal I was on the fence about whether or to continue this fic. I was skeptical but now it seems very likely that RCG will either try to fix Chardee themselves or intentionally fuck it up even more. This is easily the longest thing I ever wrote. It was originally supposed to be a one chapter fic but people liked it and now it's a goddamn novella. As a writer it's really frustrating to put so much work into something for it to just get invalidated in time, which it inevitably will.
> 
> However, I can now say with confidence I'm going to finish this beast. For one, there's only maybe three chapters left so we're entering the home stretch anyways. For another, I'm really attached to the ending I have in mind for this. I don't want to spoil it, but let's just say if you've been emotionally invested in this fic the last chapter is gonna wreck you. >:)
> 
> This was probably the hardest chapter to write. I realized all too late how difficult it would be to have a solo chapter with only one member of the Gang, even though I was so attracted to the idea at first. Looking back on it, it reads like a scattershot of scenes so sorry if it's a bit messy. I thought bookending it with her interacting with Charlie and Dennis would help, and I think it did.
> 
> I also realized midway into writing this fic that timeline wise if it goes on too long past S14 I'd need to address the pandemic. This threw another monkey wrench in how I wrote this chapter (and it probably will for the next one too). I mentioned before that I have a general idea of how this fic goes in my head and specifically how certain key scenes go, but I'm just backfilling on the fly with everything else. Lesson learned: if you're going to do a multi chapter fic, have the whole thing written before posting rather than free-wheeling it as you go. :)


	8. Chapter 8

In the weeks leading up to Paddy’s closing temporarily and the Gang being forced to lock down, Charlie noticed that Dennis was starting to not enjoy having Jessie as the new waitress. Sure he was making money hand over fist by swiping her tips when she wasn’t looking, but Dennis also had to deal with Mac’s constant whining. As bad as it was at work, Charlie didn’t need to be told it was worse at their apartment. That was easy to imagine.

In fact, it seemed like the Gang’s new dynamic was grating on everyone. Mac’s aggressiveness, Dennis and Frank’s creepy behavior, and an evening of being sexually harassed by customers was taking its toll on Jessie. At times she didn’t feel comfortable being escorted to her car by Mac, due to the very likely event of him leaving her outside Paddy’s with those sketchy guys to save himself. On those days, she’d meet Charlie in his bad room to smash bottles before sleeping in the bunker.

Charlie became the closest thing she had to a friend during this time period because he at least was willing to be cordial to her. He found out that the only reason she’s here is she racked up too much credit card debt and needed a way to pay it off quickly. This seemed like an easy way to make money when she wasn’t in school, though Jessie admitted she came to regret all of this. And she found out that he has a talent for making music. Jessie mentioned that her mother had a lot of connections, including in the music industry. She said she’d ask her to put in a good word and see if a record company could give it a listen.

And though Charlie still wouldn’t say it out loud, it was obvious to Jessie that he misses Dee something fierce.

His recurring nightmare of finding Dee dead on the bathroom floor was becoming more intense. It went from being a once in a while thing, to a couple times per week, to every night. And every time the nightmare came, it became just a little bit harder for him to wake up from it. It became a little more real each time.

Were these warnings of what might have happened? Charlie didn’t think that was likely, or they wouldn’t be getting more intense each time. Is it a sign of what’s to come? Was he going to be the one to find her, and this time it will be real?

Sure, he could just be worrying too much. Maybe she really did find success in LA, and the next time he sees her she’ll be on TV talking about her upcoming movie. It’s just…that seemed highly unlikely to him. Charlie just knows she’s floundering out there by herself, and it was likely taking a toll on her. There’s just no way to know for sure, as he had no way to contact her. And it seemed like no amount of glue or spray paint could get him to stop thinking about it.

Nor did his gemstone help. Charlie realized Frank was right about perry-go, it did absolutely nothing to cure his depression. He tried every which way to activate it too. It didn’t matter if he shook it, spat on it, or threw it over his left shoulder. Nothing seemed to work. One day Charlie even thought it might work like Beetlejuice and he said “perry-go” three times, but Perry never appeared.

The only thing that seemed to help was channeling his feelings into his music. The music was taking a darker turn now. It wasn’t about spiders or ghouls anymore. It was…kind of hard to describe. Like he went into some sort of trance when he makes it.

_It was a dreary late Monday afternoon, and Charlie was walking down the sidewalk of a local street, trying to enjoy the one day per week he gets off. He was about to pass the alleyway next to a pawn shop when something from the corner of his eye caught his attention._

_It was his mom and Frank, alone in the alleyway. The two of them looked much younger than Charlie remembered them being. She was sobbing, and Frank was with one hand softly rubbing her shoulders. He was telling her “You don’t need to worry about the cost. I’ll cover it. The important thing is that you go through with this.”_

_“Go through with what?” Charlie asked them from out on the sidewalk._

_But this appeared to be the wrong thing to ask. The two of them turned to Charlie and Bonnie looked completely shocked to be seeing him. Frank looked very angry._

_“You!” he snapped at Charlie. “You shouldn't be here!”_

_Charlie had no idea why the two of them were acting like this, but didn’t have time to question it as Frank drew his gun out at him and Charlie ran down the sidewalk before Frank had time to fire._

_He ran straight past three men who were walking the other way, all dressed like Santa Claus. The Santa that was missing half his teeth grinned at Charlie as he ran by, and shouted after him “Guess who’s been on my naughty list.” The other Santas cackled and high-fived each other._

_Charlie continued to run, and he could feel hot breath on the hairs of his neck. It made his veins feel like ice water. He knew exactly who was chasing him now, and didn’t dare turn around. He couldn’t risk slowing down even a tiny bit, out of the sheer terror of being captured by…Him. Instead, his running turned into an all-out sprint._

_Having never run this fast or this far in his life, Charlie was huffing and felt his calves burn but he didn’t dare stop. From various holes and cracks a small pack of rats flanked him on all sides and ran along with him. He was still confused and frightened out of his wits, but did feel a tiny bit better. Rats always know where to go._

_A gorgeous blonde woman stood outside of a café looking like she needed his help. Ignoring the rats going a different direction, he darted ahead towards her. She was halfway through the bottle of gin in her hand, and when she saw Charlie she smashed the bottle against the wall. Brandishing the half broken bottle at him, she shouted “I told you to stay away from me!”_

_He didn’t want to but he backed away anyways. With the knowledge that the Nightman was in pursuit of him, he expected him to catch up and take him. One of the rats ran a circle around Charlie’s feet which caught his attention, and darted down a nearby alleyway. Charlie realized he needed to take cover there fast._

_He ran down the alleyway alongside the rats. More rats appeared from various nooks and crannies in the alleyway, all heading towards the inlet leading to the sewer. The sewer is the only place where all of us can be safe._

_Charlie heard a loud bang and instinctively ducked and reached for the scar on his head from when he got shot. But it wasn’t a gunshot at all._

_He looked up and saw the overcast sky split open, and thousands of birds fell from heaven. He raced ahead and reached his hands out, desperate to catch one. A blackbird landed in his hands, and for a brief moment Charlie thought this nightmare would have a happy ending._

_Until he got a good look at the bird._

_It was dead. They were all dead._

“AAARRRGGGHHH!!!”

Charlie stood up and gave the keyboard a good kick, knocking it over along with Frank’s phone that was mounted to it.

“You were doing great! What did you do that for?” asked the real Frank Reynolds. It was just him and Charlie at their apartment, and they were trying to record a demo track to send to Jessie.

“I don’t know” said Charlie, still breathing heavily as he stood the keyboard back up. “Got a little carried away I guess.” And it was true, the images that were flashing through his mind when he played drove him a bit wild and made his playing more intense.

“How was that great?” he asked as he pushed the button to stop recording and handed the phone back to Frank. “It didn’t even feel like I was doing any lyrics. It was just sounded like…screaming and angry keyboard playing.”

“It was raw and powerful. I don’t know, but there’s a market for it for sure.”

It did seem like Frank was genuinely impressed with the darker turn in his music, but the businessman in him naturally jumped to marketability. Charlie didn’t know how he felt about something intense and personal to him being used for profit. But he didn’t have much time to dwell on that as Frank was already attempting to send the video to Jessie.

“Wait a minute. Do I send this as a live message or as a multimedia file?” Frank asked.

“Fuck if I know. Whichever one sounds better” was Charlie’s answer as he sat down to catch his breath.

Frank went with the first option and immediately hit a snafu. “Live message not available? Then why was it listed as an option?” Without waiting for Charlie to try to help he smashed more buttons, which seemed to just make things worse. “I’m not connected to my cloud? What the hell is _my cloud?_ ”

“Just try the other one.”

“Why do the Asians have to make things so complicated?”

 _This again?_ Not that Charlie isn’t used to racist rants from Frank, but they’ve really been escalating since the lockdown began. “Ugh, Frank. You really got to lay off on the Asians, man.”

Frank took his eyes of the phone and onto Charlie, and began to rant. “The reason we’re stuck here…”

“I know, I know! I’ve heard this like a hundred times now. Just try the other option.”

There were two things that Charlie gave up trying to help Frank with: his prejudices and technology. Sure enough, Frank continued to smash buttons without really waiting to see if it was doing any good. So Charlie had to use his phone to call Jessie and walk them through the simple act of sending a video. It was a laborious process, but it helped that she remained on the line until she confirmed she got it.

“You ok, Charlie?” Frank asked when it was resolved. It seemed to him that something else was bothering Charlie, not just the irritation at the technical difficulties they were having.

“I’m having second thoughts about all this.” Charlie admitted.

“Why? Does this have something to do with you not wanting to leave Philly?”

“No. Well yeah, that’s a part of it.” Charlie had to admit he still gets nervous about leaving Philadelphia, even though he’s now aware that it all works out well. “I don’t know, I just feel like here is where I belong.”

And that was ultimately the kicker, everything working out well. What if things worked out too well? What if he ends up becoming some super famous musician? It would totally upend his life. And yeah, that’d mean no more Charlie Work, and he would instead get paid for one of his hobbies. It would also mean having enough money to support his mother, which would be a good thing as she never seemed to have enough. But at the same time it would tear at nearly every relationship that he had.

It might drive a rift between him and Frank. Mac and Dennis could try to drag him back down to their level, like crabs trying to stop one from escaping the bucket. Dee could want to be a part of his life again just to use him, like she has with so many other guys.

The unknown was terrifying. The known, while painful made him feel safe.

Frank knew Charlie well enough to know that thoughts were whizzing through his head right now. He paused enough to get Charlie enough time to reflect on them before speaking again. “You know the whole pandemic thing’s got me thinking a lot. About dying.”

“You’re not sick, are you?” Charlie asked, becoming a bit worried about where this is heading.

“No, but I’m going to die someday. And that day could happen sooner than either of us think.”

Charlie was shaking his head as Frank was talking. Of all the awful things that have happened to him, the one thing that would just be too much…

“I don’t want to think about it.”

“You’re going to have to think about it. You need some sort of plan if you suddenly lose me.”

“Fuck! Stop, Frank!” Charlie was feeling his anxiety spike at the thought. This was getting to be too much. Now Frank was making him think about losing him? Losing the one person Charlie cares about more than anyone? “I don’t…I can’t just have no one in my corner.”

“You got Mac and Dennis.”

“Yeah but they’re so up each other’s asses now. Figuratively” he hastily added as he saw Frank raise an eyebrow at that.

“Well look, maybe this works out and maybe it doesn’t. But it couldn’t hurt to give it a try.”

Charlie realized that Frank wasn’t going to fight him anymore on this, and was approaching this from the position of someone who loves him. He still didn’t agree about it not hurting to ‘give it a try’. But like Frank, Charlie didn’t want to fight about this either.

_Besides, it’s not like some record label would actually like it._

How very wrong he was.

***

Within a week, Jessie responded with excitement that the record label heard Charlie’s demo and offered him a timeslot to record an album for them. She was so excited to tell Charlie this over the phone she accidentally let slip that she hasn’t yet told Mac and Dennis the news, to which Charlie insisted that she keep that to herself.

Dennis was kept out of the dark about all of this and Charlie knew that was for the best. If he caught wind about Charlie’s arrangement with the record company he would no doubt try to interfere. Instead, it was just the two of them and Frank who knew. Charlie felt comfortable with the three of them keeping this all under their hats, as he was sure that Mac and Dennis had their own secrets they didn’t share with him.

Or at least he thought they did until one morning when Charlie got a text from Mac that simply said: I did it.

_Thanks for narrowing it down, bro._

Did wut?

You know. Did it.

Charlie thinks he knows what Mac is talking about here, but there’s just no way. There’s no way that Dennis would just be cool with that, after he explicitly told Mac it was never going to happen. So if Mac’s just pulling his leg here Charlie was going to do it back.

Secks dol dusnt cownt.

Real thing.

_No fucking way._

Picks oar it dident hapin.

Charlie felt pretty smug when he sent that last text. This was definitely going to knock Mac down a peg. There’s no way he could prove it. He was about to get back to his thing when he felt his phone vibrate again, and what he saw he couldn’t believe.

Mac called Charlie’s bluff. He just sent him what looked like a picture he took of Dennis lying back on his bed. With what was unmistakably Mac’s dick in his mouth. Charlie was laughing so hard when he saw it that tears were streaming down his eyes.

_Dennis going down on Mac? Dennis, a bottom?!?_

For several minutes, Charlie couldn’t text Mac back because he was so overcome with gleeful laughter. Every time he tried to he was greeted with that picture, and Charlie had to put the phone down because he couldn’t restrain himself. Dennis had to have been completely hammered to not only agree to that, but agree to Mac taking a picture for all posterity. In fact he probably wasn’t even aware that this picture is floating around, which just made it even better. Oh the subtle digs Charlie could make at him, and Dennis being none the wiser.

👍 How?

But the minute he sent that text, Charlie realized that was the wrong thing to do. He knows Mac likes to send essay long texts and this one would no doubt be TMI. And after a couple minutes, that was exactly the way Mac responded.

Well the lockdown had the two of us all cooped up in the apartment as you know, so neither of us have really been banging anyone. Also Dennis has been acting really weird lately about the whole Dee thing. Why he cares I don’t know. She doesn’t care about any of us. Dumb bird. Anyways just yesterday, he came into the living room and he was real happy about something. Like the happiest I’ve seen him in years. I asked and all he said was “Things are about to go back to normal”. Anyways he wanted to get drunk and party, and you know I’m not going to turn down the chance to drink with my best bud. Well him and you are my best buds. But it’s different with him. You know why. Anyways he was getting real rowdy, so I thought “What the hell?” and planted one on him. But he didn’t pull away like he normally does. He deepened it. I backed him into his bedroom, and you know we’re making out. Clothes flying off. All that shit. I got him naked on his bed, right? And he grabs my dick and just starts sucking the shit out of it. Like, there’s no way I was his first one. He’s had some practice. Not that I care. It was good. I realize I need to take a picture to prove this happened, and he tells me to “make it snappy.” Which was really clever of him. It’s a play on the term ‘snap a picture’. And also because he wanted me to be quick. He’s still scarfing that dick like a chimichanga when I took the shot you saw, and I nutted like seconds after. He was real upset too. Not because I ruined his makeup or anything, but because he wanted to get off. So I went down on him too. Even licked his asshole a bit. Because he’s a champ. He deserves it. It’s not full penetration or anything, but at least it’s something right?

You still there, Charlie?

Charlie had never in his life felt more thankful to not be able to read a text.

***

On the morning that the lockdown lifted and Charlie was able to fly to Los Angeles to record his album, he felt his nerves increase more and more. It was by some miracle that Dennis never got wind of it. Charlie just had to assume that he had enough on his mind. It was probably still sinking in to him that he and Mac had sex and didn’t feel like intruding into Charlie’s personal life while he was sorting out his own.

_Fine by me._

However Dennis not sabotaging the plan meant that one of the barriers to Charlie going through with this just got lifted, and it made him feel naked. Were it not for Frank’s support, it would have been impossible. Frank handled all the logistics, so Charlie couldn’t use not being able to do it himself as an excuse. He had several tabs open on Charlie’s phone so he could show the Uber driver where the recording studio and his hotel was, along with some nearby restaurants. That way Charlie couldn’t say he can’t navigate the city on his own. Charlie’s room and flight were booked and paid for by Frank and he withdrew $200 to cover the Ubers and his meals there.

Most importantly, Frank was pushing Charlie forward every time he resisted. Despite the two of them not wanting to fight about it, the lead up to this day was filled with fights between them. Upon reflection, Charlie thought it probably didn’t help that Frank didn’t have the release that came from banging hoors.

As for himself, it wasn’t until he had his stuff bagged up and the two of them were getting into Frank’s car to drive to the airport that he relented and accepted that this will be good for him. And as they were about to pass an all-too-familiar coffee shop, Charlie realized there was one more obstacle that needed to go.

“Whoa pull over Frank. Can we make a stop here?”

Frank stopped the car outside the coffee shop, but he didn’t look happy about it. “Charlie, I told you…”

“I know what you said. Just trust me on this.”

There was a tense pause, and for a brief moment Charlie was worried that they were going to fight right before leaving. But Frank was at least glad that he remembered their talk in the sewer, and so reluctantly put the car in park.

Charlie opened the door to the coffee shop and saw the Waitress wearing an ordinary disposable mask. She looked up from the table she was wiping down and snapped “Put your mask on!”

Charlie reached into his pocket and pulled out his mask. He didn’t like wearing it, but Frank was still in a foul mood about “the Asians” and so refused to purchase masks from the store as most of them were made in China. Charlie pretty much had to fend for himself in this regard. The mask he ended up making was basically a slice of Muenster cheese that he poked tiny holes in with a pin so he could breathe, and on each end was string hot-glued to it so it could go around his ears.

“That’s so gross” said the Waitress.

It still stung that the woman he chased after half his life never came around to accepting him as he is, not even when they were dating. But now that he’s aware that they were fundamentally incompatible he felt confident he could be done with her.

“How’s things?” he asked.

“Not great. Business has been slow, and I’m worried I might lose my job now.”

“That sucks” he said, though nothing in his tone suggested that he cared.

“Haven’t seen you in a while” the Waitress offhandedly remarked. Not that she really wanted to, but it was a bit unusual.

“Oh yeah. Been busy. A lot on my mind, I guess.” Charlie reached into his other pocket and pulled out his gemstone, which he never bothered to fashion into a necklace. “Look Waitress, I want you to have this.”

“How do you _still_ not know my name?”

“Just take the damn thing” he snapped, not wanting to get into how they were together for a year and still know very little about each other.

“Peridot?” the Waitress asked as she took the gemstone from his hand and examined it.

“Yeah. I remembered that you like gemstones.”

“How did you know that about me?”

“The emerald? At the Jersey shore?” Charlie was baffled she never remembered that night, though considering she was tripping on ecstasy he had no reason to be.

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter. It’s a going away gift. This is supposed to make you feel good, but I couldn’t figure out how to make it work. Maybe things will turn around for you though.”

“Oh, ok. Thanks.” And as he started to walk to the front door without saying goodbye she couldn’t contain her curiosity anymore. “Where are you going?”

Charlie turned around to face her. “LA. Some record company heard my music and wants me to do an album or whatever” he said with a shrug.

“Oh. Guess I didn’t know you were a musician.” She was looking at Charlie in a completely different light now. “Hey you want to grab a drink? When I’m off my shift?”

“Can’t. Flight leaves in an hour. But hope everything works out for you.”

He once again turned to leave without saying goodbye. The Waitress remained standing where she was, still staring at the spot Charlie was even after he drove away with Frank, the gemstone still in her outstretched hand. “Yeah. Yeah, you too” she said to herself.

***

Charlie can say with complete confidence that he hates airline travel. This wasn’t his first experience flying, but the last time he had the rest of the Gang with him and he didn’t need to be able to manage his own logistics. Also the last time he flew, he was shit-faced drunk. Which helps.

He stood out like a sore thumb when he walked into the airport with his cheese mask on and his garbage bag over his shoulder. The mask was such a bizarre look that he didn’t get any hassle over it possibly not conforming to the mask mandate. Most people instead chose to not think about it too much. The garbage bag made other passengers look at him as if he was a hobo that hoped to sleep in the terminal.

He got harassed by security right away. They didn’t believe him when they said he was a musician and turned his garbage bag upside down looking for weapons. With all of Charlie’s belongings scattered across the floor they found none. The guards advised him to put the garbage bag in checked luggage rather than carry-on, and walked away without helping him put his stuff back.

The flight to Los Angeles wasn’t as fun as the last one, as $200 wouldn’t be enough to get Charlie as drunk as before. Not that the plane had that much beer anyways, so he just settled for a measly six beers. He didn’t have anyone to talk to either, and it was also annoying that his bag was in checked luggage so he couldn’t pull out any doodads to entertain himself. Now Mac always said there was a secret passage to the cargo hold, but Charlie never could tell with him what was real and what was BS.

So when they landed, Charlie was then tasked with having to find his garbage bag at baggage claim. He tapped a black man on the shoulder and asked “Hey, do you know where baggage claim is?”

“Really? It says so on the sign, dipshit” he said, pointing at the sign before walking away.

Charlie didn’t know why he expected people in California to be nice. Every time he asked a simple question like where something was, they’d give a smartass answer and point to a sign as if he was an idiot for not knowing. After Charlie found his bag he tried his luck again, this time with a blonde woman who was by herself.

“Hey do you know where the exit is?”

A familiar voice rang “It says so on the…”

But then she stopped. The blonde used her cane to steer herself around, and were it not for the mask Charlie would have been greeted by a familiar face.

“Wh…wha?”

“Dee?”

She ripped off her mask and Charlie followed suit, neither of them caring what anyone else had to say about it.

“What…how…what are you doing here?”

Charlie tried his best to be aloof about it. “Oh you know, just wanted to do some sightseeing.” He was still mad at her and wanted to stay that way, but it was a struggle.

“Bullshit!” Dee exclaimed. Though she seemed impressed that Charlie seemingly made his way to Los Angeles on his own, Dee still checked behind him as if she expected to see the rest of the Gang round the corner any moment. “Where are the guys? How did you get here by yourself?”

“It wasn’t easy” Charlie admitted. “Lot of assholes.”

“Just you wait” she said ruefully. “But why are you in LA?”

“Well the last couple months I’ve been getting really into my music, and long story short it found its way to a record label. I guess it was pretty good, because they want me to record an album.”

“Wow, that’s…that’s really cool! I’m super proud of you, Charlie.”

And she meant it. Charlie felt like he was glowing from that loving smile she gave him. “Hey let’s go grab a drink and catch up” he offered. Just seeing Dee again, her being impressed by him getting to LA on his own, her being _proud of him_ …it was just too much.

_I never could stay mad at her._

But the smile that was on Dee’s face vanished. “I can’t. I’m going back to Philly. My flight leaves in an hour and I can’t miss it.”

“Cancel it and get the next one. It would do you good to take the day off.”

“I…I really can’t” she said glumly and reached into her pocket, pulling out a small handful of ones and fives. “See this? This is all the money I have. I couldn’t even pay for the flight back home. Frank is.”

But to Dee’s surprise, this didn’t faze Charlie at all. Instead, he smiled and whipped out a credit card. “He’s paying for the next one, too.”

She stared gaping at the credit card, and then at Charlie when her shocked expression turned into an eager grin. She sometimes forgets how much they have in common. There’s a good reason that no one else ever owned her heart like this.

_What the hell. It wouldn’t kill me to take the day off._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought the title was a reference to the first chapter, huh? :P
> 
> I mentioned in the comments of the last chapter Dennis was going to be on the receiving end of something ironic. Did you figure out what it was?
> 
> I might change my mind on this, but I probably won't be coming up with song lyrics for Charlie's music. That's why I wrote the dream sequence as a stand-in, to capture his emotions when he's making music. Sorry if that's disappointing, but I doubt my lyrics would come out great if I tried writing them. I'm not Charlie Day.
> 
> This is a Chardee centric fic, but since it's so heavy and intense I thought it would be funny if Macdennis just casually happened in the background. I've never wrote smut before and I wanted the focus to remain and Charlie and Dee anyways, but I thought this is the most "Mac" way he would tell Charlie what happened. Also I didn't explicitly say in this chapter, but the thing Dennis was so happy about was Dee telling him she's coming back.


End file.
